Four and a Half Brothers
by Bouncemess
Summary: Same little brother fic as Four 1/2 Brothers, but I messed up in posting the chapters and decided to re-do it. Craig is the younges Mercer brother and because of there is such a gap in their ages he doesn't feel he fits in with his older brothers
1. Chapter 1

Legal stuff- don't own Four Bothers and make no money from this fiction.

_**Chapter 1: Alone**_

Craig walked out the back door and sat on the steps. He was glad that he'd managed to wake up before any of his brothers. They had pretty much let him be since they'd all been home. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. They just didn't seem to be taking much notice of him unless they wanted him to get a beer out of the fridge or change the channel on the TV. Bobby was the worst of them all. He didn't understand how the man could take off and leave for so long without a word, and then show up trying to boss everyone around. He didn't like that. He wasn't about to voice his opinion though, Bobby would throttle him if he told him to leave him alone.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of the cold morning air. It was supposed to be Thanksgiving. He was supposed to be helping his mother get the turkey ready for the oven. They did that every holiday. He always helped her cook the holiday meals. Instead, he was trying to block out the memory of her funeral the day before. He'd had to stay at Jerry's house after the shooting. His older brother had taken good care of him while he was there, and he'd appreciated it but it wasn't the same as home. Craig had been afraid of his brother trying to ask about his mother's death. He knew if he had, he would have just clammed up like he had with the police. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to remember. He'd managed to block most of it out anyway. What he did remember was mostly a blur, and he didn't want to talk to anyone about it because he was sure as soon as he did it would all come back to him as clear as the moment it happened. He almost believed that if he didn't speak the words, that he could somehow change what had happened.

He'd been surprised when Bobby walked up next to him at the cemetery, but hadn't showed it. Bobby had given him a hug, just as Jack and Jerry had hugged him, but he hadn't taken much notice of him other than that. No one had really taken much notice of him all week since the shooting. It had been Sunday night. He and his mother had gone to the store to get the turkey. She had hoped that she was going to have all of her family together for Thanksgiving. After all, her four older sons used to come home for Thanksgiving every year. If Jerry couldn't make it, he at least made a point to drop in some time over the weekend. Angel and Jack usually came home for the big holidays like Thanksgiving. They didn't stay long, and on a few occasions if one of them couldn't come, they always called. Bobby hadn't been around much for a few years though, though Evelyn was sure he would be there this year, for some reason.

Craig swallowed hard as the memory of the men in ski masks coming into the store and shooting the clerk filtered into his thoughts. His mother crying out, and then they were aiming their guns at her. Craig had gone to the back room to use the restroom just before, and had been on his way out when the gunshots rang out. He'd come out of the room behind the meat counter just as the men started their shooting. One of them had seen him and come around the meat counter right up to him, but didn't shoot. He didn't understand why he hadn't taken the shot; instead he had slugged him hard in the jaw. The rest of it was just a blur in his dazed mind, and he'd been fighting hard to keep it that way. As soon as the men were out of the store, he had gone to his mother, and knew without even touching her that she was dead. He'd turned to ice on the inside, like he used to when he was little. He'd been unable to move right away. When he did, it was as if his body was on auto pilot. He'd gone to the phone, called the police, and then went out front to wait for them. He'd been thankful that the responding detective was Green. He knew Green, and liked him. He didn't tell Green anything, he couldn't. He was taken to the hospital and examined. They had tried to ask him questions, but he had blocked their voices out. That was where Jerry picked him up in the early morning hours. He'd been given a shot and was pretty groggy by the time Jeremiah had gotten him to his house. He'd slept all that morning, well into the afternoon, and had pretty much been left alone since. Jerry was busy calling his brothers and making funeral arrangements. There had been a lot of visitors the first couple of days, and the police had wanted Craig to come to the station a couple of different times, trying to get him to tell them what he saw. He couldn't do it though. He hadn't seen anything really. He had heard the voices though, and his mother's last words and he'd felt the strike to his jaw.

Jack had arrived the day of the funeral, and had met them at the cemetery. Bobby had shown up just before the service had started. He'd hugged Craig, and he'd hugged Jack and Jeremiah. Craig hadn't hugged him back. He didn't feel like hugging any one at that time. He still didn't fell like hugging anyone. He didn't really want to be hugged. He couldn't help but think that if they all knew that he'd been in the safety of the back room while their mother died that they would hate him. They would have done something to save her. Any of them would have jumped the men, despite the fact that they were armed. They already didn't like him much. They hadn't been very thrilled when Evelyn Mercer had brought home a fifth son. Bobby had never hidden it at all, saying that his mother was getting a little old to be bringing home strays. Craig hadn't understood it when he was little, but now he did. Evelyn Mercer had brought her four older sons home as foster children, and had adopted each of them, so Bobby knew it was inevitable that she would adopt Craig.

After the funeral Craig had kept to himself once they got back to Jerry's house. He'd gone up to the guest room and just lay on the bed. He felt alone, and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't eaten any of the food that had been brought by all of the friends that had been in. He hadn't really eaten all that much since he woke up in Jerry's house Monday afternoon. Of course Jerry had asked him a few times if he was hungry, or if he'd eaten anything. Craig had told him that he'd had something and had left it at that. He wanted the rock in his gut to go away. He wanted to be able to go to sleep now without the nightmares attacking him. He'd fought night terrors since he'd lived with Evelyn. No one except for Evelyn Mercer had known about his life before she'd found him. Evelyn had known what his nightmares were about. Now his old nightmares were mixing in with Evelyn's murder, making it impossible for him to sleep much.

Jerry had said he was going to be bringing a turkey so that they could have a real thanksgiving dinner, but Craig had never heard him say when he was going to be there. Camille would have let him stay a couple of nights if he wanted to, but he didn't want to be away from his daughters, or wife, no matter how close he was to his brothers. Then Angel, who had been waiting for them at the house when they got home, had gone to find his old girlfriend Sofi. Now she was there, sleeping in Angel's bed. Bobby had thrown a fit when Angel had come in the back door with Sofi, both of them half naked. Craig had heard the yelling from upstairs and had opened his door for a few moments, just long enough to find out what was going on. Jack had been in his room, and had gone right down to see what was going on. Craig had gone back to his room, to try to block out the yelling. He'd never liked yelling, even when it was his brothers. He'd slept a little through the night, but not much. So when he'd seen the sun peeking through the curtain, he'd gotten dressed and headed down for some peace and quiet outside for a while. He was hoping his brothers would sleep in, since they'd been up so late yelling. It was a little after seven and he was sure that Bobby would be up soon. His oldest brother seemed to be up at the crack of dawn no matter how late he was up.

It was no surprise when ten minutes later he could hear the cupboard doors inside slamming shut and he knew that Bobby was about to make a pot of coffee. He prayed the oldest Mercer wouldn't open the back door and find him there. He'd probably find something for him to do, like make breakfast. Bobby had never wanted much to do with him unless he needed something fetched, cooked or a drink. Evelyn had always told him that Bobby did care about him, but there was such a gap in their ages that he didn't know how to show it. He didn't have a problem showing Jack though. No matter what Jack did, in his brothers' eyes he could do no wrong. Craig seemed to never do anything right. He didn't want to spend a day listening to his brothers barking orders and then criticizing him for not doing something the way they wanted him to.

He was wondering how long the state would give him before coming for him. He knew they would come. His mother was dead, and his brothers wouldn't want him. That's what happened to kids like him when their parents died; they ended up in the system. He figured they would show up at the door the next morning, Friday. He had taken the time the night before to pack a bag with a few clothes. It wasn't a good idea to take much with you; it would all be taken away eventually. Besides, he knew where he would end up, and it wasn't a foster home. This was the chance his father had been waiting for, and Craig was sure he'd take the opportunity to pounce.

Craig heard a car on the street and looked up in time to see the morning paper flying from the passenger's window, landing at his feet. He knew Bobby would have been looking for it. He stood quickly and walked around to the back of the garage, hoping to miss his brother coming out for the morning news. He sat down on an old tree stump behind the garage, and heard the back door creak open loudly. He heard the sound of another car engine, and then Jerry's voice. "Get your ass over here and help me carry these groceries."

"Damn, you're out and about early." Bobby called out from the open back door.

"Yeah, well someone had to do the shopping. Camille sent over some stuff that Craig left at the house."Jerry answered.

"That kid would forget his own ass if it wasn't attached to his back end." Bobby sounded closer.

"Give him a break Bobby." Jerry spoke normally. "Did he sleep okay last night?"

"How the hell should I know? He's still in his room. You want me to go ask him?" Bobby spoke sarcastically.

"Yeah, why don't you do that? Maybe he'd know then that you care." Jerry was sounding further away.

"He knows I care." Bobby countered. "I just have a different way of showing it. Hell, I don't know what to do with him." His voice faded, but he said more that Craig couldn't hear.

Craig heard the door slam shut then, then the big door was closed loudly. His body started to shiver slightly, and he regretted not grabbing his coat before coming outside. He stood and peeked around the corner of the garage at the back door of the house. He didn't want to go inside. He decided to go for a walk. He steered clear of the house and walked down the side street that ran next to the house. He wasn't sure where he was going; he just didn't want to be there at the house. Now that Jerry was there Jack and Angel would be getting up and then all peace would be out the window. Bobby would start up where he left off the night before with Angel. Craig wondered why his brothers' antics had never bothered him as much before but were bothering him now. Maybe because they always left him out. He wasn't included in any of it. When he was younger, before all of them moved out they had included him in some things. Not much, but some.

Craig reached the corner and turned to his left. His eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, but he tried to tell himself it was from the cold. He was surprised by the quiet in the neighborhood. He had never taken a walk that early before. Evelyn Mercer would have had a fit if he'd gone out of the house by himself at seven in the morning. At that thought his stomach turned to stone again. He wished someone would make it all go away. The fear seemed to be growing but he wasn't sure what the fear was for. Was it because of his brothers? Because he was sure that any day now Child Welfare would be showing up to take him back? No, he wasn't afraid of those. He was afraid of trying to live his life without Evelyn Mercer in it to make everything okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Legal stuff still stands, still not making money, still don't own them!

_**Chapter 2: Its Thanksgiving**_

Bobby set the bags on the counter and then walked to the bottom of the stairway. "Hey you pussies get your asses out of bed and get down here!" He yelled the words loud. "We have a Thanksgiving meal to prepare!" He turned and walked back to the kitchen. "Well, Jack and Craig have a meal to prepare anyway." He laughed as he looked at Jerry.

"Did he eat last night?" Jerry asked.

"Did who eat?" Bobby looked at Jerry, not sure what his brother was talking about.

"Craig. You remember him?" Jerry asked, holding one arm out to his side at shoulder's length. "White boy, about so high, he has brown hair and some funny colored eyes that are supposed to be hazel."

"Yeah, he ate. He stood right there at the counter and ate a bowl of spaghetti before he went to bed." He spoke seriously. "I was watching, trust me."

"You're sure he didn't take the bowl and stir the shit around a bit and then dump it?" Jerry asked.

Bobby gave Jeremiah a sarcastic look. "What are you talking about?"

"He's been dumping food Bobby. He's not eating. He's barely eaten since the shooting. He hasn't been sleeping either." Jerry shook his head. He didn't hesitate to walk over to the trash can, pick it up and look inside. "Yep, spaghetti," He held the can so that Bobby could look inside. "I told you to keep an eye on him."

"How did you know?" Bobby asked while Jerry put the trash can back down.

"You remember how he was when Ma first brought him home. He wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep without nightmares. We all had to watch him. I noticed it when he was at the house this week, but with everything going on I never had a chance to talk to him, or push it with him. I figured you would take care of that since you were home. He is gonna be your responsibility now."

Bobby shook his head. "I guess none of us were really thinking last night." He went back to pulling groceries out of the bag in front of him. "So, he hasn't told you what happened that night?"

Jerry shook his head. "I didn't ask. He wouldn't tell the police anything." He sighed. "Bobby, you need to keep an eye on him, I'm telling you. You give him a hard time about everything, don't do that right now. He needs to know he's gonna be okay."

Bobby nodded his head. "I got the message Jerr'." He spoke quietly. "Why don't we get his ass down here now and explain to him how he's gonna eat his holiday turkey, and we are gonna make sure of it." He smiled.

"You do what you think is best. I'm just advising here. Mom named you as the one to take him if anything happened to her. She did that for a reason." Jerry picked up the last paper bag on the counter. "These are his clothes, a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans. Camille washed and ironed them." He held the bag out to Bobby.

Bobby took the bag and headed up the stairs. He stopped at Jack's room. "You up?" He leaned on the door jam, looking at Jack who was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his socks and shoes.

"I'm up." Jack looked up at Bobby. "Not that I wanted to be up at this time of the morning." He shook his head.

"Toughen up little girl, we got a turkey for you to cook." Bobby grinned and walked on down the hall. He could hear Angel and Sofi in the rest room together, the shower running. He sighed and went onto the only closed door, Craig's small room. Bobby stared at the door for a long moment. The room had been a closet when Evelyn had first brought Craig home. He and Jerry had done some work on it, managing to add a couple of square feet of space and a small window. It was still a very tiny room, and he wondered why the boy had continued to use it after the oldest four brothers had moved out. He didn't bother to knock; he opened the door and walked on in, "Get your ass out of bed sleeping beauty." He spoke the words before he realized the room was empty. The bed hadn't been made, but other than that the room was in good shape. It was cleaner than any of the other brothers had ever kept their rooms. It took a moment for the man to absorb the meaning of the empty room. He dropped the bag on the bed, turned and walked back to Jack's room. Jack was on his feet now.

"Have you seen your little brother?" He spoke quickly.

Jack shook his head. "No, I thought he was still in bed." He walked out of his room following Bobby.

At that moment the restroom door opened and Angel walked out, mostly dressed, but he was pulling his shirt over his head.

"Angel, have you seen Craig this morning?" Bobby walked towards the stairs, not waiting for an answer.

"No." Angel looked at Jack with a questioning expression on his face.

"Guess he's gone?" Jack shrugged his shoulders before following Angel down the steps.

Jerry was getting pots and pans out of the cupboard. He looked at Bobby as the man walked in, with Angel and Jack on his heels. "Where is Craig?" He asked the question slowly.

"He's not here." Bobby reached for his car keys.

"Where are you going?" Jerry asked.

"I'm going to go find his ass and get him home." Bobby's voice was loud.

"You don't even know where to start looking." Angel pointed out. "You have no idea where he would go or where he hangs out."

"There are not a whole lot of places he could go this time of morning." Jack spoke up. "It's Thanksgiving after all."

"But he could have been gone last night, and there are a lot of places he could be right now." Angel countered.

"You guys don't know if he's been gone all night or not?" Jerry cried out.

"Well, we were a little preoccupied with the Angel/La Vida Loca thing last night." Jack commented.

Bobby looked at Jeremiah, "You have any idea where he might me?"

Jerry shook his head. "No, man, he never goes anywhere; Ma never let him out of her sight especially after that graffiti thing."

Bobby, Angel and Jack looked confused by the statement.

"He was caught painting graffiti at the school. You can still see it if you drive by." Jerry laughed.

"What did he paint?" Bobby asked the question sarcastically, "Bugs Bunny?"

"Ma wished." Jerry laughed. "A naked lady lying on her side, looking sexy," He shook his head. "I thought Ma was gonna kill him. It's actually pretty good too."

Bobby grinned. "Sounds like we might have rubbed off on him a little after all," He walked back towards the front door and grabbed his jacket off the hook. "Where ever he is he didn't take his coat." He called back. "If he comes home before I find him, you guys keep him here." He pulled his coat on, and then grabbed Craig's to take with him.

* * *

Craig walked several blocks before turning a corner and finding himself at the school. He looked up at his fading artwork on the second story of the building. Evelyn had been furious with him about that. Not because of the graffiti, but because he'd climbed out on the ledge to do it. Okay, she'd been mad about the graffiti too, and she'd told him that he couldn't do things like that, but she lectured him more about putting himself in danger, and how it would have tore her up if he'd fallen and been hurt in any way. She'd grounded him until hell froze over. He'd been considered grounded for six months, right up until her murder. That was the reason he'd been with her that night. He wasn't allowed to go anywhere alone. He walked over to the playground and positioned himself on a swing. He sat there staring at the naked woman. The school was supposed to paint over it, but they never had. Evelyn had paid the fine, and the cost of removing the painting, but they still hadn't done anything about it.

He let his head rest on the chain of the swing and closed his burning eyes. He was starting to feel shakier and the cold was starting to bother him. He was wearing long johns, a sweatshirt, and a flannel shirt over that, but it didn't seem to be quite enough. He gave himself a few more minutes before standing and walking again. He still didn't want to go back to the house, but he had to get warm. He headed towards the strip of small retail shops a few blocks over. He had a couple of dollars in his pocket, and he was sure the gas station was open, it was always open. He could get a cup of coffee and hang out there for a few minutes to warm up.

He didn't notice the car that followed him from the school and up the street at a slow pace. He didn't pay any attention to the car as it pulled up at the gas station as he walked through the door and straight over to the counter that held the coffee pot. He was happy to be indoors where it was warm. He started pouring sugar and creamer into a cup. He wasn't really a coffee drinker, but it would be hot and he could use the caffeine. He was on his third creamer when he heard the voice behind him.

"A little more cream than I like." Bobby's voice was flat, with no emotion.

Craig froze for a moment. He swallowed back the fear and drew in a deep breath. "I guess it's a good thing it's not for you then." He muttered and poured the cream into the cup.

"It's not for you. You don't drink coffee, you're only a kid." Bobby's hand came around from behind and took the cup. "You can get some hot chocolate." He poured the cream and sugar down the drain of the soda machine, and then filled it with coffee. "Hurry up, hot chocolate." He put the lid on the cup.

Craig grabbed another cup. "I don't have enough money for hot chocolate, it cost more than coffee." He muttered.

"I have the money." Bobby leaned back on the counter and looked at the boy. "You look like shit." He his voice was loud. "You are not drinking coffee so that you can stay awake. You get the hot chocolate and meet me in the car." He walked away, towards the counter.

Craig heard Bobby tell the clerk he was paying for his coffee and one hot chocolate. He filled the cup half full with hot chocolate from the machine, and as soon as Bobby was out of the store he topped it off with some coffee so he could get that caffeine fix. He walked out of the store to find the car idling right there in front of him, Bobby at the wheel. He got in on the passenger's side and didn't say anything.

Bobby put the car in drive and pulled onto the street. "What the hell are you doing roaming the streets this time of the morning, with no coat?" Bobby asked the question loud.

Craig didn't answer. He took a sip of his chocolate coffee mix. He hoped Bobby didn't see his hand shaking as he raised the cup to his lips. He figured if Bobby did notice he'd just chalk it up to being cold, though the car was pretty warm.

"I asked you a question." Bobby glanced over at him.

Craig didn't look at Bobby. "I felt like taking a walk." He muttered.

"You felt like taking a walk? How long have you been out here freezing your ass off? You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell someone you were taking a fucking walk?" Bobby's voice was rising to a yell. "You stupid little shit!" He shook his head. "You scared the hell out of us!"

"Sorry." Craig muttered, showing no emotion. "I didn't figure you'd care if I went for a fucking walk." He tried not to sound as angry as he was feeling. Any other time Bobby wouldn't care what he was doing and it was irritating that the man had interupted his time alone.

"You watch your mouth!" Bobby yelled. "You know better than to leave the house by yourself at this time of the morning in this neighborhood." He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ten, nine, eight," He continued to count down until he reached one, and then took another deep breath. "Ma was wrong, that does not help." He glanced over at the boy. "What the hell were you thinking? Tell me what you were thinking?" He didn't yell that time.

Craig didn't look back at Bobby. He didn't answer the question, he just leaned his head against the window next to him to look out. He realized they weren't heading home, they were heading back up the same street he'd just walked down; they were heading towards the school. "Where are you going? The house is the other way." He muttered.

"I want to look at something." Bobby spoke gruffly.

A few minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot of the school, facing the painting that Craig had done.

Craig looked up at it, wondering who had told Bobby about the painting. It had to have been Jerry.

"Not bad." Bobby nodded his head. "You paint on anything else?" He looked over at the boy, who was back to looking out the passenger window, his head still leaning against the glass.

Craig ignored the question.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "This is what we are going to do. We are going home, you are going to get a hot shower, then lay down on the fucking couch where I can keep an eye on you. You are going to take a nice little nap until dinner is ready, and then you are going to sit your ass down with your brothers and you are going to eat everything I put on your plate. You try dumping food again, and I'm gonna beat your ass. Got that?"

Craig didn't answer, he felt his eyes tearing up on him, and fought it down.

"One more thing, you damn well better answer when someone talks to your ass. I'll cuff you good if you ignore me again. Got it?"

"Yeah," Craig muttered. "I got it."

"Good." Bobby pulled out of the parking lot. "Sit up right. You're not a damn baby; you sit up in your seat." He ordered.

Craig sat up in his seat and stared straight ahead.

Bobby was quiet the rest of the ride to the house. He pulled his car up to the curb at the front of the house and looked at the boy. "How much coffee did you put in that hot chocolate?" He asked.

Craig swallowed hard, not sure how Bobby knew he'd doctored the chocolate with coffee. "Not much." He muttered.

Bobby took the cup away from him and maneuvered into his other hand, with his own cup of coffee. "Get inside, get a shower. You put on your pajamas, or whatever the hell you sleep in, and you come downstairs."

Craig opened the door and moved to get out.

Bobby grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Take your fucking coat with you. I was worried you were freezing to death out there." He spoke loud, again.

Craig reached into the back seat and grabbed his coat. He closed his door as Bobby got out of the car, and wasn't surprised that Bobby stayed right on his ass as he walked in the house. He hung his coat on the hook while Bobby slammed the door after him. He could see Angel and Jeremiah in the living room, both looking up at him. Jack came to the doorway from the kitchen.

Bobby was still holding his cup of coffee and Craig's cup of chocolate. "I want to hear that shower running within the next three minutes. If I don't hear it I'm coming up to throw your ass in myself." He threatened.

Craig headed upstairs without looking at any one.

Bobby looked at Jerry. "He's grounded." He walked on to the kitchen to dump the hot chocolate down the sink. Jeremiah and Angel both followed him.

"Where did you find him?" Jeremiah asked.

"I found him at the school, staring at his own work of art. I followed him to the gas station and picked him up there." Bobby tossed the empty cup into the trash can but took a long drink of the coffee in his own cup. "He said he felt like taking a walk." He shook his head. "Did you see him? He looks like shit."

"I told you." Jeremiah nodded his head.

"He's gonna take a nap." Bobby remarked.

"You gonna trust him to nap in his room?" Angel asked.

"Hell no, he's gonna come down here and sleep on that couch where I can watch him and knock the shit out of him if he tries to get up." Bobby took another drink of his coffee and made a face. "This shit has got to go." He proceeded to dump his coffee down the sink and throw the cup in the trash. "Any of the good stuff left?" He got out a regular coffee mug and checked the coffee pot.

"Bobby, I told you, you need to go easy on him man, he's messed up right now." Jeremiah commented.

"I've been easy on him. I haven't pushed anything, you haven't pushed him to do anything since Ma died, and it hasn't done any good. The hell with going easy on him, that stops. He's just going through the motions and hiding shit from us. From now on, he talks when someone talks to him, he eats when food is put in front of him and he sleeps when he's told to sleep. He's not to be left alone for anything. He's attached to one of us at all times." Bobby looked at Jack. "Except for you, I don't want to turn him into a fucking fairy."

"Lay off." Jack cried out.

The good natured argument was fizzled before it started by the banging and clanking of the water pipes, signaling the shower upstairs has been started. All four looked up at the ceiling. "Well, he's paying attention at least." Bobby muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

Also, as for Jack dying in this?? We'll see... :)

Legal stuff still applies

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Nightmare**_

Craig had run into Sofi in the upstairs hall. She had smiled at him and asked him if he was okay. He'd shrugged his shoulders and gone to his room to get a clean flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He went to the restroom and started the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment before undressing and getting into the shower. His eyes had dark circles under them, and his jaw looked a little swollen from where he'd been hit. It wasn't bruised outwardly, but the doctor had said the bone was bruised. He turned and got into the shower. He was surprised at how good the hot water felt. He'd been cold all the way down to his bones. He took his time, using all of the hot water before turning it off, getting out of the tub and drying off. He could hear Bobby and Angel yelling at each other below, though he couldn't quite make out the words. He was sure he heard Bobby say 'La Vida Loca' a few times, and then he heard Sofi's yells ringing through the house, loud and angry. He dressed slowly; not wanting to go downstairs to face whatever Bobby had decided was going to be his punishment for taking off on his own that morning.

He was starting to feel odd now, a little lightheaded, the start of a headache and nauseous. He opened up the medicine cabinet and looked for something for his stomach. He found some antacid tablets and ate four of them. He found some aspirin and took five of those, hoping it would ease the headache and light headedness. He had barely gotten them down when they decided to come back up. He leaned over the toilet and started heaving. The taste of the antacid tablets mixed with the aspirin made the heaving increase. He held onto the walls to brace himself, unable to stop the heaving even after his stomach was empty. He wished Evelyn were there to make it better, to make the heaving stop and make him feel better.

The door of the bath room opened and Angel walked in. "Craig, are you finished?" He spoke before getting a look at the teen dry heaving over the toilet. "Bobby!" He yelled loud and walked over. "Relax kid." He rested a hand on the boy's back, rubbing in circles. "It will stop if you relax." He spoke calmly.

Bobby walked in. "Shit." He muttered and walked over. "Stand up." He grabbed the boy's arms and pulled him up straight.

The heaving stopped almost immediately, but there was a loud ringing in the boy's ears, and he still felt sick. He felt Bobby grab his arms again and pull him towrds the door.

"You see what the fuck happens when you don't eat or sleep you stupid shit?" Bobby kept a painful grip on Craig's left arm, just at the elbow and pulled him out of the rest room.

Craig felt shaky and thought he might fall on his face, except for Bobby's hold on him. Bobby pulled him all the way down the steps, into the living room and pushed him down on the couch. "Angel, go make him some toast?" He spoke calmly, looking at Angel. Jeremiah was sitting in one of the chairs, Jack was still in the kitchen, Craig could hear him talking to Angel who hadn't questioned Bobby's request and headed in that direction.

Bobby sat on the couch next to the boy. "You will eat the toast then lie down and go to sleep."

"What happened?" Jerry asked.

"Well Jeremiah, it seems our little brother here just had a nasty case of the heaves. He has starved himself and deprived himself of sleep for so long now, that he's making himself sick." Bobby sounded angry.

"That's not surprising, Ma had to force feed him for six months after he first came here." Jeremiah remarked. "He don't handle things the same as you do Bobby."

"I know that." Bobby looked down at the boy next to him. "But it stops now." He used his finger to poke the boy in the arm. "You got that?"

Craig looked up at Bobby, unable to find his voice.

"What did I tell you about answering when someone talks to you?" Bobby leaned closer to the boy.

"I got it." Craig muttered.

"Good boy." Bobby grabbed Craig's right wrist and unbuttoned his sleeve. "Let's have a look to see if any other old habits are making a comeback." He rolled the sleeve back to reveal Craig's arm.

Craig didn't try to pull away. He knew what Bobby was looking for. When he first came to live with the Mercers he'd had a problem with scratching himself. He'd feel like he had an itch and he'd scratch it until he bled. He hadn't done that this past week, though he'd felt like it. He'd managed to ignore the itch and it would go away for a while. He let Bobby check both arms and his legs without arguing.

"I'm happy to see you haven't fallen back into that." Bobby buttoned the boy's sleeves back just as Angel walked in with a plate holding two pieces of toast.

Bobby took the plate and set it down on the coffee table in front of Craig. "You need to get something on your stomach." He managed to sound calm.

Craig looked down at the toast and made a face. The rock in his gut seemed to turn into a boulder. "Bobby I can't eat it." He muttered, trying not to sound like a small child, though at that moment he felt like one and that was frustrating.

Bobby looked surprised by the words. "Yes you can. It might hurt because you haven't eaten for a couple of days, but yes, you can." He remained calm.

The tears stung at his eyes. He felt tired and sick and wanted his mother. "There is a rock in my stomach, I can't eat." He fought the tears, but they were winning.

There was silence for a long moment as the tears started to run down his face. Bobby's arm snaked around the boy's shoulders, pulling him closer to him. "You are going to eat this kid." Bobby picked up a piece of the toast and tore it in half. He used one hand to hold the boy's jaw, and held the toast up to his mouth with his free hand. "If you get sick and puke it up, I'm gonna put more down you. You will get food in your gut one way or another. Now eat."

Craig didn't fight it as Bobby fed him the toast. After three bites his stomach cramped up on him and he thought he was going to throw up. Bobby gave him a few minutes to recover. "Don't throw up kid. It will go away. Come on." The man forced more toast into his mouth. It seemed forever before the first piece of toast was eaten. It seemed he cramped up every three or four bites. Bobby reached for the second slice of toast. "This one should be easier." He held it up.

Craig didn't have as much of a problem with the second piece of toast, though his stomach was threatening. Once it was eaten Bobby pushed the boy back so that he was lying on his back. "You have about five hours till we eat. You are going to go to sleep, and you aren't getting up until I say you can." He pulled the afghan off the back of the couch, covering the boy. "Close your eyes."

Craig looked at Bobby, afraid to close his eyes, afraid to go to sleep. Apparently the fear was showing on his face.

"You ain't gonna dream. I won't let you." Bobby whispered the words to him. "I'm gonna stay right here with you, and I won't let you dream." He moved Craig's legs, sitting on the couch, and letting the boy's legs rest across his lap. He positioned one hand on the boy's stomach and another on his legs. "Close your fucking eyes." He spoke normally.

Craig closed his eyes and listened to the quiet sound of the TV and the sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen. He opened his eyes once, and got a smack on the leg. "Close 'em." Bobby warned. He closed his eyes immediately, and it seemed everything went silent, and pitch black. He felt the dream starting, and knew it was a dream when it did start. He felt small, very small. He was looking up at the adults in the room and they all seemed very large, even his mother. This was his real mother. She was standing over him, screaming at him. The man standing beside her was holding a gun. He was yelling and swinging the gun as if he were hitting someone, or something. Then Craig realized he was the one being hit, and he tried to duck, tried to run. Then the gun was pointing him in the face. He was able look into the dark tunnel of the barrel and he was frozen with fear. His adoptive mother was laying on the floor close by, dead. Blood pooled under her, and the man in the ski mask laughed at him. "You're lucky you weren't supposed to be here." He laughed, and Craig recognized the laugh just as the back of the man's hand was coming at him to club the side of his face.

"Craig!" Bobby's voice was loud and seemed to be right in his ear. Craig was still in his dream, he was still seeing the blood, the gun and the two men in the ski masks, so Bobby's voice seemed out of place. He tried to run, tried to get away, but arms wrapped around his stomach, holding him back. "Wake the fuck up!"

Bobby's yell in his ear seemed to shock him out of his sleep. He opened his eyes, but could see nothing but a gray haze.

"Mom," He screamed out. "Momma," He tried to pull away from whatever was holding him.

"Shit, grab his arms!" Bobby yelled.

"Craig, it's okay, it's a dream." Jerry's voice seemed to penetrate the haze and the living room started to take shape. He realized he wasn't on the couch anymore; he was on his knees in the middle of the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach from behind, a body behind him, holding him close. Jerry was on his knees in front of him, holding onto his wrists. He started shaking violently, unable to stop. He realized he was wet from the waist down.

"Okay, calm down. It was a dream. It's over now." Bobby's voice was directly in his right ear and he knew then that it was Bobby behind him, holding so tight.

They stayed that way for several minutes while Craig cried. The shaking didn't subside like it usually did. He finally tried to pull away from Bobby and Jerry; he didn't like being touched by any one after one of his nightmares. He didn't expect it when Bobby jerked him back, out of Jerry's hold, pulling him back off of his knees and onto his lap. The man adjusted his hold, pinning Craig's arms to his side, holding onto him even tighter than before. "Don't you ever pull away from your brothers like that, if you want to cry, you cry, we don't mind the crying, but don't you ever try to pull away from us because I'll knock you senseless," Bobby spoke loud and slow. "You got that?"

Craig couldn't stop himself, he struggled against Bobby's hold. "Let go of me!" He cried out.

Bobby moved his right arm, shifting the boy to the side and smacked his ass hard. "Do it again!"

Craig froze.

"That's what I thought." Bobby pulled his arm back up to wrap around the boy. "Now you calm down. Angel, go get him some clean clothes please? We'll meet you in the shower." He stood, pulling the boy up with him. "You need to be treated like a fucking five year old? I'll treat you like a five year old." He pulled the boy to the stairs ahead of Angel. "You need another shower now, I'll make sure it gets done fast, and then you can go back to sleep."

"Bobby, I don't want to sleep any more. Please?" Craig cried. "Please?" He knew he sounded stupid, like a little kid rather than a fourteen year old, but he couldn't shake the fear the nightmare had instilled.

"You want to tell me about your dream?" Bobby asked.

Craig shook his head.

"Then you can go back to sleep." Bobby pulled him to the restroom and opened the door. He let go of the boy as they walked in. "Get undressed and in the tub." He walked leaned over the tub and turned on the water.

Craig was still shaking, and couldn't quite follow Bobby's instructions. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. You are a little boy, who watched his mother being shot; I'm not mad at you. I'm just gonna make it better. Now get the fucking clothes off and get your ass in this tub or I'll do it for you." Bobby didn't yell that time, but his voice sounded rough.

Angel walked in at that moment carrying the back pack that Craig had stashed under his bed for when a social worker showed up at the door. He had a clean shirt, sweatpants and underwear in his other hand. "Found something odd under the bed Craig." Angel held the bag out to Bobby. "You plan on going somewhere?"

Craig looked at Angel, but didn't speak.

"What did I say about answering people?" Bobby spoke as he took the bag from Angel and looked inside. "This looks like the basic 'foster bag'. " He looked at the boy. "You were thinking about taking off on us?" He repeated Angel's question.

Craig shook his head slowly, still shaking, and trying to stop his tears.

"What you keep a bag packed all the time?" Angel asked.

Craig shook his head again.

"Then what the fuck is this Craig?" Bobby cried out, but then a look came across his face. He seemed to realize why the boy had packed the bag. He laughed out loud and shook his head. "You thought we were gonna send you back?" His voice was quiet that time. He looked at the boy for a long moment, as if waiting for an answer.

Craig opened his mouth, and tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

Angel looked at Bobby and then at Craig. "Hell no," He shook his head. "You aren't that ignorant." He spoke quietly. "You know, you are our brother. You are stuck with us. You know that. Don't you?" He looked surprised.

Craig looked down at the floor, unable to look either of them in the face.

"You look at me." Bobby's voice sounded strained, as if he wanted to yell but was fighting the urge.

Craig shifted his gaze slowly, to look at Bobby.

"Now you listen, and you listen close to what I'm going to say. I will not repeat this." Bobby handed the bag back to Angel. "Evelyn Mercer adopted you just like she adopted all of us. That makes us brothers. We're your family kid and we care about you. Maybe we aren't that great at showing it sometimes, but we love you. If any one comes around to try to take you anywhere they'll have to get past us first. You got that?" Bobby spoke quietly.

The boy was still fighting to stop his tears, and he couldn't do anything more than nod his head.

"Okay, calm down." Bobby walked over to the boy, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. "It's okay." He kissed the top of the boy's head. "Oh god, I never thought you were thinking that kind of shit." He waited while Craig's tears seemed to subside slowly. "It's gonna be okay." He finally spoke. "We need to get this piss cleaned off of you. Come on, let's get this done." He started unbuttoning the boy's shirt.

"Bobby." Craig managed to speak.

"Yeah," Bobby looked at Craig's face.

"I think I know the guy that shot her." Craig spoke quietly.

Bobby stared at the boy. "Why would you think that? They wore ski masks, didn't they?"

Craig nodded his head as the tears were subsiding. "His voice," He spoke quietly.

"He spoke to you?" Bobby asked.

Craig nodded his head again. "He laughed." He barely got the words out.

"You knew him?" Bobby's face went blank as he pulled the shirt from the boy.

"I knew the voice. I can't place it." Craig started shaking again.

"Craig, you need to tell me everything. But let's get you washed, rested and fed first." Bobby pulled the boy's sweatpants and underwear down together. "Step out." He ordered the boy.

Craig stepped out of the wet pants. Bobby grabbed his arms and walked him over to the tub. "Get in." He pulled the shower curtain back.

Five minutes later Bobby was letting the boy dress himself in the clean clothes Angel had brought in. Angel sat on the counter, watching his oldest and youngest brother. "He's still shaking like a fucking leaf." He commented as Craig pulled on the sweatshirt.

"Yeah, I know." Bobby nodded his head. "He's gonna be fine though. Aren't you Craig?"

Craig looked at Bobby and nodded his head. He was still sniffing at left over tears periodically, but mostly he'd managed to stop crying.

"Blow your nose." Bobby picked up the wet clothes.

Craig grabbed some toilet paper and blew his nose.

"Now come on." Bobby held an arm out.

Craig walked up to Bobby and let the man drape an arm around him. He didn't realize he had leaned into Bobby's shoulder until afterwards. Bobby's arm held him there when he started to lean away. "You just relax." Bobby tossed the wet clothes at Angel. "Burn these." He remarked, and then laughed when Angel dropped them and cried out something about having pissed filled clothes thrown at him.

Bobby walked Craig back down the stairs, to the couch. When he sat down he pulled the boy down with him, holding him close to him. "Okay. You cover up." He pulled the afghan over to him and let him cover himself. "Get your legs on the couch." Bobby spoke calmly.

Craig pulled his legs up under the afghan.

Bobby laid to his left, using the throw pillows for support, putting the boy's head on his chest. "Now you lay there with your eyes closed." He spoke quietly. "You hear my breathing?"

Craig nodded his head, keeping his eyes closed.

"Good, I want you to count how many times I breathe in the next five minutes. I'll ask you in five minutes." Bobby rested a hand on side of the boy's head.

After several moments, Craig's breathing evened out.

Jeremiah sat in the chair watching the hockey game. Angel joined them a few minutes later. "He's out cold this time." He commented.

"Yeah, nice trick about counting your breathing," Jeremiah laughed.

"It used to work on Jack." Bobby whispered. "Mom used it on me when I was little." He didn't look away from the hockey game on the TV.

"Yeah, I think she used it on all of us." Jack spoke from the doorway.

Craig slept peacefully until he woke to the sound of Bobby shouting. "Get him Jerr'." He laughed after that. Craig opened his eyes in time to see Jeremiah and Angel wrestling on the floor. It only took a few moments for Jerry to pin Angel, then he helped him up.

"I'm still your big brother." Jerry laughed as he pulled Angel up off the floor.

Angel looked over at Bobby, and notice Craig's eyes open. "Looks like 'Sleeping Beauty' decided to wake up." He laughed.

Craig realized then that he was sleeping half on Bobby, who was sprawled out across the couch. He started to move to sit up, but Bobby's arm pinned him and held him down. "You ain't going anywhere." Bobby spoke. "It's not time to eat yet."

Craig didn't try to sit up again, but he didn't close his eyes. He drew in a deep breath. "I have to go to the bathroom." He spoke quietly, which wasn't a lie, but he really wanted to get up, and not be lying on Bobby.

At that moment Jack came into view in the dining room. "It's ready." He called out.

"You go use the rest room, and then get back down here to eat." Bobby moved his arm and let the boy sit up.

Craig swallowed hard. He wasn't the least bit hungry.

"Well, go." Bobby spoke.

Craig stood and headed for the stairs. He went to the restroom and took care of what he needed to do. He washed his hands and started to head back down the stairs. He could hear his brothers talking and laughing. He back stepped and went to his room. He walked in and sat down on his bed. He half hoped that no one would miss him. Maybe they would just let him be if he lay down on his bed and faked wanting to sleep more. After a few minutes the floor boards in front of his door creaked. When the boy looked up Bobby was standing there staring at him. "What the hell are you doing?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I'm not hungry." Craig muttered. "Can't I just sleep some more?"

Bobby didn't wait for the boy to complete his sentence. He stepped into the room, grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He didn't speak as he pulled him out of the room and down the steps. Bobby guided him into the dining room and pushed him down into the chair on the corner, where Angel usually sat. Angel was helping Jack set the food on the table. "That's my seat." He pointed out.

"From now on it's his." Bobby spoke as he sat in the chair at the end of the table, right next to the boy. "I want him right here where I can make sure he eats all of his food."

Angel nodded his head. "No matter where he sits we can see him eating." He commented. "Don't you think any of us are capable of making sure he eats?"

"Yeah, I know you can. But I'm going to." Bobby grinned. "I'm hoping for the chance to get to shovel the shit down him myself." He looked at Craig. "Don't try stupid shit with me kid, I won't put up with it."

Craig looked down at his plate. Once Jack, Angel and Jeremiah were all gathered at the table Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet again. They took hands like they used to when they were all home, when Evelyn was there with them, and Bobby prayed the way Evelyn had taught them all to pray. Once 'Amen' was said Bobby gave him a sideways look. Craig sat down without saying a word. He watched as Bobby filled his plate from each dish as they were passed around the table. Craig suddenly felt sick. Bobby didn't give him a lot of food, but he gave him more than he would have taken if he'd been allowed to fill his own plate.

Bobby passed the dish of potatoes in front of Craig, to Angel. "Pick up your fork and eat up kid. You're gonna need it for the game."

The rest of the meal was pretty much quiet. Craig forced himself to eat the food, but he was ready in case he had any cramps like he had earlier with the toast. He avoided looking down the table at the empty chair where his adoptive mother should have been sitting. He notice Jerry, Angel and Jack all three glancing down at the chair. He concentrated on taking little bites of his food and chewing slowly, while right next to him Angel was shoveling it as I it were going to be his last meal for days.

"Shut your mouth Angel." Jerry spoke quietly. "You think you're a cow or something?" He sounded so much like Evelyn Mercer at that moment Craig almost dropped his fork.

A moment later Angel pulled on his shirt sleeve, covering up his tattoo. Craig had never understood why Angel had tried to cover them. Evelyn knew about them and she never had a problem with them.

"Craig." Evelyn's voice echoed in his mind. "You are supposed to eat the food dear. If it's easier to use your hands that's fine, but you have to eat." He glanced down at the end of the table and could picture his Mom sitting there, holding a pork chop in her hand. She grinned at him and took a bite of the meat.

Craig put down his fork and picked the slice of turkey up with is hands. He tore a piece of the meat off and put it in his mouth. It had always been easier for him to eat with his hands, though none of his brothers ever understood why, Evelyn seemed to.

Jerry looked at him. "Craig, use a knife and fork, you aren't eight years old anymore."

Craig dropped his turkey.

"Let him eat it the way he wants to." Jack spoke up. "Mom always let him use his hands." He looked at Bobby.

"That she did." Bobby nodded his head. "You can use your hands." He continued to eat himself.

The meal was half way over when Bobby seemed to grow tired of it. He put down his fork and stood. "The hell with this meal, let's go get a pickup game." He picked up his drink and started stirring it with his finger, "I want to see some quick sticks and some tight passing." He looked down at Craig. "You can finish your food while we get our gear, and then you can get your clothes on."

Craig was confused, and apparently it showed. His brothers had rarely taken him with them to the ice, and they had never played hockey with him.

"You aren't staying here by yourself. It's about time I teach you some moves." Bobby explained to him. "Now eat."

"It's too cold man. I didn't come all the way back out here to go play no hockey." Angel shook his head.

Craig managed to eat all of the food on his plate while his brothers were moving around getting their gear together. He didn't try to dump any of his food, not that he could have the way every one kept watching him. Bobby finally told him to go get dressed and to put plenty of clothes on.

"Why do I have to go? I don't even have any skates." Craig muttered.

Bobby smiled. "I got skates for you. I still have my old skates and they should fit you. I got a stick for you too. It's about time you learned the game."

Craig didn't bother to try to argue. It did no good to argue with Bobby. He just couldn't figure out why his oldest brother suddenly was taking notice of him. He was sure it wouldn't last long.


	4. Chapter 4

Legal stuff still appies, and thanks for reading

* * *

_**Chapter 4: On The Ice**_

Craig went up to his room and dressed in several layers of clothes. He walked down the steps when he was done to find Bobby standing in the foyer with a hockey stick and a pair of skates. "Go put these in the back of Jeremiah's car." Bobby ordered. "Then you can get in my car and wait for us."

Craig moved toward the door to go to the car. "Take your coat!" Bobby called out as he walked towards the kitchen.

Craig put down the stick and skates long enough to pull his coat on. With the extra layers of clothes the coat felt a little awkward, but he managed to pick up the skates and stick and make it out to Jeremiah's car. He found the back was open, and his brothers had already loaded their extra clothes and gear. He was sitting in the back seat of Bobby's car when his brothers came out of the house. Bobby was talking non-stop, but Craig couldn't make out what he was saying. Angel and Jack got into Jeremiah's Volvo, Bobby came to his car.

Bobby looked at him when he opened the car door. "You can sit up front." He got in and put on his seat belt.

"I didn't know if anyone else would be up front." Craig crawled between the seats, moving to the front passenger side of the car. He put on his seat belt quietly.

"I wanted to talk to you." Bobby commented.

Craig didn't look at his oldest brother. He was dreading this talk.

Bobby started the car engine. "Let's start with that 'foster bag' Angel found under your bed." He sounded calm.

Craig swallowed hard. When the bag had been found he had been a bit vulnerable, with having just had the nightmare, and feeling emotionally raw. He wasn't feeling that way now, and the walls were up. He didn't want to talk about it, especially with Bobby.

"You want to tell me why that was there?" Bobby pushed.

"I don't know. Old habit I guess." Craig muttered.

"Old habit my ass. You never kept one there before, did you?" Bobby asked.

Craig shook his head. "No." He admitted. "But Mom wasn't dead before." 

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "No, but you really thought that we would just ship you back to where you came from?" He asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "They'll come for me Bobby. Mom's dead."

"Mom made me your guardian. I mean, we need to go see the lawyer, and I need to sign some papers, but you ain't goin' anywhere." He kept his gaze out the front, watching Jeremiah's Volvo pull out in front of them. "We go see the lawyer tomorrow."

Craig didn't know exactly what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. In the back of his mind he wanted to ask Bobby why? Why did the man suddenly care? He had spent the last seven years letting everyone know he didn't even like the youngest Mercer. He was sure Bobby would change his mind.

"You said you knew one of the scumbags that shot Mom." Bobby spoke again after a few minutes of driving quietly.

"I knew the voice." Craig muttered, sorry now that he'd said anything to Bobby.

"You knew the voice." Bobby nodded his head. "But you aren't sure who it was?"

"I just knew the voice." Craig stared out window next to him, trying not to let his mind wonder back to that night. "If I seen the face I'm sure I would know him."

"So it was someone that you've been around." Bobby spoke the words quietly. "Did you tell the police about that?"

Craig shook his head. After a few seconds he felt Bobby's hand smack the back of his head. "Ouch!" He looked up at his brother.

"Talk to me, don't shake your head." Bobby sounded irritated.

"No, I didn't tell the police about that." Craig looked back out the window.

"Why didn't you tell Green?" Bobby pushed.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I could ID the guy." He muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "What did the guy say to you?" He asked.

Craig swallowed at the rock forming in his gut again. "I don't remember." He lied, but it wasn't really a lie. He did remember, but he was fighting hard to keep most of it hazy and vague. His voice came out weak and a little shaky.

"You said he laughed at you before. He said something and then laughed?" Bobby pushed.

Craig shook his head. "I don't remember Bobby." He repeated the lie that wasn't a lie.

Bobby was quiet for a while. "You were lying to me earlier?" He asked. "Cause earlier you were ready to spill it all to me. Remember that?"

Craig felt his insides freezing up. Yeah, he remembered and he mentally kicked himself for acting so stupid. He always acted like a small child after one of his nightmares, and he hated it. It hadn't been so bad with his Mom, but around his brothers it made him look weak and stupid.

"Now you are telling me you don't remember any of it? Bullshit!" Bobby's voice was loud but it wasn't a yell. "You need to get your story straight kid. You don't want to talk about it, fine." Bobby hit the steering wheel and shook his head. "But you are gonna talk to me eventually, one way or another." He was quiet the rest of the drive to the ice rink.

When they got to the rink Bobby waited until he and Craig were out of the car before speaking to him. "You get your shit together, go over to that bench and wait for me." He ordered, pointing to a vacant bench next to the rink.

Craig followed Bobby to Jeremiah's car. Jerry, Angel and Jack were getting their gear out and talking and joking. Jerry handed Craig the skates and stick that Bobby had given him at the house.

"Go sit." Bobby told him again.

Craig sat on the bench and watched as his brothers talked to each other, putting on extra layers of clothes. Bobby finally walked over. "Get your shoes off and put on the skates."

"Bobby, I don't skate, can't I just sit here and watch?" Craig asked.

"Hell no, you get your damn shoes off." Bobby sat on the bench next to him and started taking off his own shoes.

Five minutes later Bobby was leading him out onto the ice. "You've been on skates before." Bobby spoke calmly. "I brought you out here a few times when you were younger. It will come back to you."

"I fell on my ass every time." Craig muttered.

"Stop your whining." Bobby spoke in a mimicking voice. "Are you a little girl, sweetheart?" He skated on ahead of Craig.

Craig went down almost immediately.

"Get up."Bobby dropped a puck on the ice and played it back and forth a few times while waiting for the boy to get back up on his feet.

Craig was feeling irritated. He really didn't like hockey the way his brothers did. He would have been much happier to stay on the bench and watch. Bobby used the stick to push the puck over to the fourteen year old. "Hit that back at me." He ordered.

Craig hit the puck back hoping that if he did this for a little bit Bobby would get bored with it and leave him alone.

"Not bad, but you're holding that stick wrong. Look at my hands." Bobby caught the puck with his stick. "Look at how I'm holding this."

Craig looked and tried to adjust his hold so that it looked like Bobby's. Angel skated past them at that moment.

"There's some guys down here, I'm gonna go see if they're up for a game." Angel called out as he skated away.

Jack came up to them at that moment. "Here, like this." He came up next to Craig and moved his hands into the correct position. "There you go." He skated on in the same direction as Angel.

"Now, catch this." Bobby hit the puck back to him.

Craig missed it, probably because he didn't try too hard. He didn't want to be there, and he sure as hell didn't want to play hockey.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Bobby cried out. "Go get that." He pointed to the puck that was still sliding across the ice. 

Craig turned and followed the puck as quickly as he could. The skating was coming back to him easier than he'd thought it would. He caught up to the puck and used the stick to push it along as he made his way back towards Bobby.

"What are you a little girl?" Bobby cried out. "Hit the damn thing back to me. Move your feet!"

Craig hit the puck hard enough to get it back to Bobby.

"You need to hit it harder, get more speed to it." Bobby spoke louder than he needed to. "Put some thought into the process. You have to get it across the ice without the opposition taking it from you. A hit like that in a game will lose the fucking game. You play street hockey, you know the fucking game!" He yelled the last part pretty loud.

Craig stopped and stared at Bobby. He knew it shouldn't bother him, but it looked like Bobby was back to treating him like crap again.

"Catch this like you fucking know what you're doing." Bobby hit the puck back to him hard. Craig missed it, and knew what was coming.

"Get your head out of your fucking ass little sister!" Bobby yelled.

Craig turned to go get the puck.

Jeremiah came up to him. "Don't let him get to you. That's how he teaches everyone." He skated with him to the puck. "Knock his lights out." He laughed. "Aim right between his eyes." He moved behind Craig to be out of the way.

Craig hit the puck as hard as he could, sending it across the ice fast, right past Bobby.

Bobby laughed. "It's about fucking time." He turned and went after the puck. "Now catch it this time!" He hit it back harder than the boy ever could hit it. "Next time aim. Don't just hit it to hit it." He wasn't laughing now.

Craig caught the puck this time, but fell on the ice.

"Jesus, get up!" Bobby sounded mad.

Jeremiah grabbed Craig's arm and helped him stand. "You go sit and put on your shoes." He told him calmly. "I'll take care of him." He gave him a small smile.

Craig headed for the bench, feeling angry at Bobby, and even at Jerry for telling him to go sit. It wouldn't matter what anyone said at that moment, it would make him angry. He was tired of them telling him what to do, and yelling at him. 

"Get your ass back out here!" Bobby yelled at him just as he reached the bench and sat down.

"Bobby, let him be." Jeremiah called out as he skated towards Bobby with the puck. "You're too damn hard on him!" He hit the puck to the older Mercer brother.

Craig could see words being exchanged between the two, but he couldn't hear them. They passed the puck back and forth as they spoke to each other. They slowly moved their way down the ice, away from him.

* * *

Craig took off his skates and put on his shoes. He leaned the hockey stick on the fence, and put the skates on the bench. He watched as his brothers started a game with the guys Angel had been talking to. There were a few people walking around, watching the game. They were all familiar, from the neighborhood. Some were okay, and some were bad news. He never hung out with too many people from the neighborhood. There were a few friends from school that he hung out with from time to time, but Evelyn had been pretty strict about screening his friends. If she didn't like them he wasn't to have anything to do with them. She'd never been that way with Bobby, Jerry, Angel or Jack. She had explained to him that his brothers had always hung out with each other, and she knew that they would watch each other and take care of each other. With him it was different; he was on his own most of the time when he was away from home, unless she was with him.

He wasn't surprised to hear Bobby barking orders clear from the other end of t he ice, telling Jack to hit hard, and Angel to move his fucking feet. Jerry seemed to be preocupied, wondering around to parts of the ice alone from time to time. Then he'd get back in the game. Around the third time he did it Craig reaiized he was talking on his cell phone. Angel took a hard hit and kept using a hand to wipe at his chin.

He was taken off guard twenty minutes into his brothers' game when he felt some one sit down on the bench next to him. He was even more surprised when he looked up to see Anthony Miller. Anthony was considered bad news. He'd lived down the street from the Mercer home years before. He had hung out with Craig some after Jack moved out. He was a couple of years older than Craig and he'd been real nice to him, looking out for him and making sure no one messed with him. Then he'd gotten involved in drugs, and then he'd been arrested a few times for breaking into homes on the street. Mrs. Miller, his mother, had been embarrassed and moved a few blocks over. When Anthony got out of Juvi' he'd joined up with a gang. Evelyn had caught Craig talking to him a few times and warned him to stay away from the boy. "I feel terrible telling you that, but Anthony had choices. He made the wrong choices. His older brother wasn't the same as your brothers; he didn't look out for him. His mother seems to have given up on him. Unless he makes some better choices in his life, I don't want you to have anything to do with him."

Anthony looked down at him. "I heard about Ms. Evelyn." He spoke quietly. "I'm sorry."

Craig nodded his head. "Thanks." He muttered.

"You okay?" Anthony asked.

"Yeah," Craig muttered. "I'm fine."

Anthony was quiet for a long moment. "I really am sorry. I liked Ms. Evelyn. You don't know how many times I wished she was my mother." He looked sad.

Craig stared at him for a long moment. "Thanks." He finally said. "She liked you too, before." He said the words carefully.

"Yeah, I know I screwed up with her." Anthony laughed.

"No, man she liked you, she just didn't like what you started doing." Craig looked away. Not sure what he could say to the boy that had at one time been a good friend to him.

Anthony looked out on the ice. "So why aren't you out there playing with your brothers?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "Bobby." He figured that should be enough of an explanation.

Anthony laughed. "You just gonna sit here and watch?" 

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have much of a choice. They made me come."

"Come on, let's walk a little." Anthony stood.

Craig shook his head. "I can't." He looked back out at the ice, where the game was going strong now. "They'd kill me."

"Brothers can be ass holes." Anthony laughed.

Craig glanced back at Anthony, remembering that Anthony had a brother too. "Yeah, they sure can."

"My brother Stanley is the same way." Anthony shook his head. "Always making promises, but then backing out when one little thing goes wrong."

Craig shook his head. "My brothers never bothered making promises that would have been too much of an effort. They just went about their business like I wasn't there. Hell, you talked to me more than they did when I was younger, and you were just a neighbor." He watched as Angel hit a guy and shoved him into the wall.

"Just a neighbor," Anthony shook his head. "Hell, I thought we were friends."

"Well, yeah. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that, you didn't have to bother with me, but you did. My own brothers never thought I was worth it." Craig spoke quickly.

"That's cool. I knew what you meant." Anthony followed Craig's gaze. "They brought you here with them today though. That must mean something. I don't think there was ever a 'Turkey Cup' they brought you to. They used to show up here on Thanksgiving and play any one who had the guts." Anthony laughed. "My mom used to bring me down here to watch. We didn't have a TV, so it wasn't like we could be normal and watch football or anything like that."

It felt odd to hear someone else use the name Bobby had given to their Thanksgiving hockey game. Craig laughed. "I used to stay home with Mom and help her clean up. Then she would put a movie on and she'd watch it with me." He felt his eyes stinging with tears. "That poor woman suffered through every Harry Potter movie out."

"Harry Potter?" Anthony laughed. "You really like that shit?" He shook his head.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "It's a good way to escape." He spoke quietly, feeling stupid for mentioning the movies.

"Hey, I like Harry Potter." Anthony laughed a little harder. "I just never figured anyone else in this fucking neighborhood ever seen those movies. I used to sneak into the drive in and watch them when they were playing."

Craig looked at Anthony. "Did you ever read the books?"

Anthony shook his head. "Hell no, I never was any good at reading."

Craig smiled and looked back at the game in time to see Bobby grab Jeremiah's cell phone from him and hit it across the ice. Jerry went after the phone. A few minutes later Angel scored.

"Craig, we need to hang out sometime. I miss hangin' with you." Anthony spoke quietly. "I miss the old days." He smiled and shook his head. "Man, everything seemed so easy back then."

Craig looked at Anthony. "What's going on Anthony?" Craig could tell there was something on the older boy's mind. Anthony wanted to say something, he could sense it.

Anthony had a faraway look in his eyes. "I saw that painting on the school. Heard you were the one that put it there. Did it on a bet?" He smiled.

"A dare actually, it was pretty stupid." Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Mom wasn't very happy about it." He drew in a deep breath. "I guess I should have turned it into a bet, that way I could have at least gotten something out of it besides being grounded for the rest of my life."

"You can't be grounded now." Anthony didn't seem to realize the weight that statement carried until after he said it.

Craig was quiet for a long moment, trying to find words to speak. "You have never lived with my brothers." He spoke quietly, trying to joke, though the statement held truth to it.

Anthony laughed. "Kid, at least they're here." He looked down at Craig for a long moment. "They don't have to be."

"They weren't here for a long time." Craig pointed out. "They aren't gonna stick around now. They'll all be out of here and back to their own lives soon enough."

Anthony was quiet for a while. "So, where are you gonna be? Is Jerry moving you in with his family?"

Craig shook his head. "You have got to kidding." He managed a laugh. "I don't know where I'm gonna be. Bobby is supposed to be my guardian now, or so I'm told. But I look for Children's Services to show up any day now and drag me back into the system." He looked back out at his brothers. "They all have their own lives; they don't need me hangin' around in the way. They never wanted me around before; they sure don't want me now."

Both boys were quiet for a long while.

"My Mom kicked me out." Anthony cleared his throat. "I got out of Juvi' and I was set on staying clean. But she didn't give me the chance." He cleared his throat. "I had to go live with Stanley." Anthony took a deep breath. "He's bad news. He's worse than any of the gang." He didn't look down at Craig. "But at least I have a bed to sleep in at night. Maybe you should give your brothers a chance. At least they aren't gonna drag you down. Ms. Evelyn taught them better than that."

Craig looked up at Anthony, a little confused by his words. "What are you talking about?"

Anthony looked down at Craig. "Just remember, man, they value their brothers, they always have stuck together. You are one of their brothers. I envy that. Me and Stanley, we barely talk. He never has been around. I remember when Jack used to walk you to and from school. I remember when Bobby used to sit out on the front steps and make sure you were safe. After they all moved, I kind of stepped in to watch out for you because I knew you had that before. I envied that. My brother could have cared less if I'd been knifed in an alley somewhere, so long as I didn't forget to crawl home his drugs." Anthony's voice was quiet. "So don't be too hard on your brothers. They have their reputation because they always did what was needed to survive. My brother does what he does because he's a fucking ass hole. Remember that." Anthony stared out at the ice for a long moment before standing. "Looks like the game's over. I'm gonna get out of here."

Craig looked over at the ice. His brothers had grouped together and were skating towards the bench at a casual pace. He looked up at Anthony. "I'll see you around?" He asked, though he knew he wouldn't.

Anthony smiled. "Yeah, I'll be around." He walked away just as the four older Mercers got to the edge of the ice.

"Who the hell was that?" Bobby asked, coming towards him.

"Anthony Miller." Craig muttered.

"Little Tony?" Angel laughed. "Hell, he ain't so little anymore." He made his way towards the next bench.

Bobby sat down next to Craig in the spot Anthony had just vacated. "If I remember right, Ma didn't let you hang out with him, did she?"

"He got into some trouble." Craig muttered.

Jeremiah sat on the other side of Craig. "Some trouble?" He laughed. "Hell, that kid is no good."

"You stay away from him." Bobby grunted while he started taking off his skates.

"Anthony's not that bad." Craig muttered.

"You stay away from him!" Bobby's head seemed to snap at he turned to look at the fourteen year old, his voice was loud and clear. "You hear me?"

Craig leaned back on the bench and focused his eyes on the few men that were still skating around on the ice.

Bobby's hand came up and smacked him in the arm. "Don't give me the fucking silent treatment. You are to steer clear of that guy. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah," Craig muttered without looking at Bobby.

"Good." Bobby returned to removing his skates.

Jeremiah shook his head. "Look Craig, I know you like Anthony and all. Ma liked him too. But liking someone and not approving of what they do are two different things." He spoke calmly. "If Anthony would change his ways, then maybe it would be different."

Craig laughed. "Yeah, right," He spoke sarcastically.

Bobby looked over at him as he pulled on his right shoe. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Anthony's mom kicked him out as soon as he got out of Juvenile Detention. He didn't have a chance." Craig muttered. "He's not a bad guy; he's just trying to survive."

"Selling drugs and stealing? He's in a damn gang. Mom didn't let you hang around him for a reason." Jerry pointed out.

"But she still liked him." Craig didn't look away from the ice. "He was always a good friend."

Bobby looked at Jerry. "A good friend," He laughed. "That good friend would have had you in all sorts of trouble, and you know it." He looked down at Craig.

Craig shook his head. "I have a mind of my own." He argued. "Besides, Anthony never did any of that around me."

"Because Mom wouldn't let you hang out with him once he started doing that shit." Jack spoke up that time. He was sitting next to Angel on the other bench.

"Anthony was doing that shit when he was thirteen years old. He just never did it around me." Craig argued.

Bobby looked directly at the boy. "How do you know he was doing that shit when he was thirteen?"

Craig finally looked at Bobby. "I caught him doing it." He informed.

"You caught him doing what?" Bobby challenged.

"I caught him snorting coke." Craig answered without hesitating. "His brother gave it to him, and made him try to sell it at school."

"Did he ever try to sell it to you?" Angel asked.

Craig shook his head. "No. He told me if he ever caught me with anything like that, that he'd tell Mom."

"Okay, so maybe Anthony isn't all that bad. But he's into some bad shit." Jack spoke up. "Don't try to pretend he's not. You just stay away from him."

Craig didn't comment any further. His brothers wouldn't care what he said. It wasn't as if he and Anthony were close friends any more. They hadn't seen each other or talked to each other in more than a year until that day. There had been something about the way Anthony had talked that just felt wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, and it wasn't as if his brothers would care to hear about it. He really wished his mother was there. She would listen. She would care if there was something going on with Anthony and there was a chance that he could be helped. If she were there she would have listened to him


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews, and the advice! This is my first story, so any help is welcome!

Legal stuff still applies...

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Chapter 5: Another Walk

Craig wasn't surprised when Bobby told him to get to his car and wait for him there. Jeremiah went home from the rink, but his brothers stowed their gear in the back of his Volvo. Jack and Angel rode back to the house in Bobby's car. Craig had expected Bobby to start his ranting and raving about how bad he'd skated, or about Anthony. Bobby didn't say a word to him. He and Angel cracked jokes and was giving Jack a hard time, but no one seemed to notice Craig was in the car. Part of him was thankful, but another part of him wished they would talk to him like a normal person. Obviously that would never happen. He couldn't understand how Anthony could come up to him after a year and talk to him like he was a real person, but none of his brothers could.

When they got back to the house Bobby got out of the car without saying a word. Craig climbed out of the back seat and headed for the house. Sofi walked out the front door as Craig reached the steps. He didn't bother to turn and see her greet Angel. He walked into the house and started to head upstairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bobby came through the front door.

"I'm going to my room." Craig didn't look back. He was half surprised that Bobby didn't stop him. He went to his room, shut the door, and walked over to the radio on the top of the dresser. He turned on the music, sat on his bed, and pulled his sketch pad out from between the mattress and box springs. The pencil he's slipped in between the pages was still there in its place. He opened the pad to where the pencil was and looked at the sketch he'd been working on. It was Evelyn. He'd started it just before the shooting, and hadn't even looked at it since that night. He had been at Jeremiah's most of the week, and the night before when he got home he felt too anxious with his brothers in the house to even think about pulling out his drawings. He stared at his mother's face for a long moment, then held the pencil up to her chin and started carefully forming the curve of the jaw. He hadn't done much when he stopped. He couldn't quite picture his mother's face. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her face smiling at him. He'd had a certain memory of her that had been in his head when he'd started the sketch, but now he couldn't quite reach that image. He sighed and opened his eyes, looking at the pad in front of him. He studied the eyes. They seemed to have hint of mischief behind them, and that had been what he had remembered. The look that she had a secret and was about to let him in on it. He smiled slightly as he remembered the image in his mind now. It was the day she'd told him she had signed the adoption papers and he was all hers. His father had given up fighting the inevitable. He felt his hand start to move, the feel of the soft lead scratching out its fine lines on the paper vibrated up the wooden stick into his hand. He didn't really have to think about it, it just happened. The time slipped by as he sketched the memory out in front of him. He was thankful that he was able to release it. Drawing had been something he'd always done. After the 'accident', it had been the brilliant idea of his first psychologist for him to communicate his memories through his drawing because he wouldn't talk about it. The pictures that he drew had been quite graphic. He didn't know what had happened to them, though he'd heard talk about them being used as evidence in his father's trial.

He didn't know how long he'd been working on the sketch but knew he'd been in his room for quite a long time. The sketch was probably the best he'd ever done; at least he thought so as he held it at arm's length and studied the face staring back at him. He heard a loud bang on the door and glanced up just as Bobby pushed the door open.

"You come on down and get some food in your stomach." Bobby spoke to him.

"I'm not hungry yet." Craig muttered.

"It's almost seven o'clock. You've been holed up in this closet for two hours. You need to come downstairs." Bobby didn't move. "You are going to eat before you go to bed tonight. No more skipping meals or dumping food. I told you that earlier."

Craig felt irritated that he'd been interrupted. He closed his sketch pad, careful to keep the pencil in the pages as usual. He slid it under his pillow and stood.

"What have you been doing up here for two hours?" Bobby asked as the boy stepped to the dresser and turned off the radio.

"Nothing," The boy lied. He didn't like for anyone to look at his sketches. What he drew were usually memories, or feelings that took place on paper. He kept part of himself in that pad and he didn't like for people to look at it. Evelyn had been the only person he'd shared the pad with. It had always felt good to share his self with his mother. She understood him and never asked questions about the drawings, though some of them were a little strange. One page could hold a scene of a man dying on the floor, and the next could be a picture of a deer standing in a clearing with trees and flowers growing all around.

Bobby waited until the boy walked past him before pulling the bedroom door closed. "We need to do something about your room." Bobby commented.

Craig stopped and turned to look at his oldest brother. He didn't understand what was wrong with his room. He kept it clean, he'd always made a point to keep his room picked up and dusted. He never threw clothes on the floor, and he was fanatical about keeping his clean clothes folded or hung neatly on the rack in the corner since he didn't have a closet.

"Why are you still sleeping in there? You outgrew that closet a long time ago. Why didn't you move into one of the other rooms?" Bobby looked at him.

"They weren't mine." Craig muttered, he didn't understand why Bobby would ask that question, it seemed the answer should be obvious to the man.

"Yeah, well, we might be able to get some more room in there for you if we knock out the back wall and move it a few feet." Bobby walked past the fourteen year old and moved quickly down the stairs. "Come on, get down here and eat."

Craig found himself sitting in the same chair as he had earlier that day when he got to the table. Jack sat next to him so that Sofi could sit next to Angel. Angel, Jack and Bobby talked nonstop as they ate, except for when Sofi would interupt and try to get Angel's attention. She reminded Angel that he had promised to spend some time with her that night, and the next day. The next morning they were supposed to be going to Mr. Bradford's office, and Sofi questioned Angel about the time, and when he would be back. Angel answered her questions as best as he could.

Craig expected Bobby to start his teasing because of Sofi's endless banter at Ange, but the man just rolled his eyes, shook his head and laughed. Bobby finally looked at Craig. "I'll wake you up about eight. No morning 'walks'." He warned. "I expect to find you in your bed all cozy and warm when I open your door. We need to be at the lawyer's office about eleven o'clock."

Craig ate on the leftovers that Bobby had put on his plate. They would be eating turkey for a few days. He didn't bother to answer the man. It wasn't as if there was any real answer to give.

"Do you understand?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Craig muttered.

"Good." Bobby grinned. "Hey 'Cracker Jack', pass the mashed potatoes."

After they ate Craig had the task of cleaning up the table and kitchen. He did the dishes while his brothers sat in the living room talking and laughing. When he was done he headed for the stairs to return to his room.

"Hey." Angel called out when he seen Craig at the bottom of the steps. "Are you too good to sit in here with us?"

Bobby was in his usual spot on the couch, Jack sitting on the opposite end. Angel was sitting in the chair in front of the fireplace.

"I'm gonna get a shower." Craig spoke as normally as he could.

"You can get a shower later. It's not like you have to get up for school in the morning. You ain't going to bed yet." Bobby spoke that time. "Get your ass in here and spend some time with your big brothers. We are gonna wear your ass out before you go to bed. No sleepwalking for you tonight."

Craig felt a shiver run down his spine as he remembered how Evelyn had said the same thing to him on many occasions. In fact, he could remember Bobby saying it before. "I'm not going to bed yet, I'm just getting a shower."

Bobby stood almost instantly. "I am not going to keep repeating everything with you!" He pointed to the space on the couch between him and Jack. "Get your ass over here and sit!" His voice was loud.

Craig swallowed at the instant fear that crept into his gut and walked over to the couch, stepping over Jack's legs to get to the spot Bobby had pointed out. He sat down and looked up at Bobby, who was still standing.

Bobby stared at him for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head and sat down where he'd been sitting. They were watching football, and all three men were pretty much into the game. Sofi came down the stairs a little while later, her hair was wet, so obviously she'd been in the shower.

Bobby looked up at her as she walked over and placed herself on Angel's lap.

"Damn woman, you are making yourself right at home, aren't you?" He laughed.

"Bobby, don't start." Sofi wrapped her arms around Angel's neck, "Come upstairs with me baby." She smiled at him.

Angel smiled and glanced over at Bobby. "You know, I really am not being a very good host, leaving her upstairs all by herself." He looked back at Sofi and proceeded to kiss her.

"Hey, not in front of the kid please?" Bobby cried out. "He's far too young to be exposed to this shit. Craig doesn't need to see it either!" He picked up one of the throw pillows and tossed across the couch at Jack.

"Fuck you Bobby!" Jack picked up the pillow and threw it back at Bobby. "I have more groupies after me in one night than you have ever had in your life time."

"We aren't talking about gay shit right now Jackie, we're talking about Angel and Sofi." Bobby laughed and threw the pillow back at the younger man.

"Women, Bobby, they are women." Jack threw the pillow back, only harder than the first time.

"Leave him alone Bobby!" Sofi looked over.

"You stay out of it." Bobby laughed and looked at Jack again. "Come on Jackie, you know it's not healthy to live your life in denial. You can tell us. We are your family and we love you even if you are gay."

"I am not gay!" Jack stood and walked out of the room.

"Oh come on Jack, I'm just kidding with you."Bobby stood and quickly followed his brother out the front door to the closed in porch.

Sofi turned her attention back to Angel. "Come upstairs with me." She purred as she stood, pulling Angel to his feet.

Moments later Craig was sitting in the living room alone. He looked at football game playing on the television and didn't move. He waited. If Bobby came back in and he wasn't on the couch he wasn't sure what the man would do. He could hear Bobby and Jack talking, but not their words. After a while the voices stopped, but the outside door banged loud. Craig turned on the couch to look out the window behind him. Bobby and Jack were walking to Bobby's car. The fourteen year old stood and watched the two men get in the car and drive away. He stared at the empty space where the car had been. After making such a big deal about him sitting in the living room with them, they had all left. They hadn't said a word to him, none of them, they had just left. It was just like he'd told Anthony; they went about their business like he wasn't there. They didn't really care what he did so long as it didn't get in their way. He walked over to the TV and flipped the channels around to see what else might be on. Nothing interesting caught his attention. He turned it off and walked to the kitchen, but didn't really want to be in that room. Finally he walked through the house, grabbed his coat off of the hook and put it on. He walked out the front door of the house, then out the porch door, careful not to let it slam the way Bobby and Jack had. He started walking down the street in the opposite direction that his older brothers had gone. It was after eight o'clock and he was sure that his brothers would get angry at him for taking off at that time of night, especially Bobby, but at that moment he didn't care. Part of him wanted to piss his brothers off, mostly, he wanted to piss Bobby off.

Bobby had been gone most of the time the past four or five years, and now he was there acting like the head of the family. Okay, maybe he was the oldest of his brothers, but he didn't understand how the man could come into the house after so long and start ordering him around. It hadn't been so bad when Evelyn was around, but she was dead now, and he missed her, and the aching wouldn't go away, and no one else understood that. Sure, his brothers loved their mother, he knew that. She had known that. But he'd been there when she died, and he'd seen it and heard it and smelled her blood.

Bobby wasn't very consistent with what he told, and Craig wasn't used to that. He'd told him to sit with them that they were going to spend the evening together. He'd gotten angry because Craig hadn't wanted to. He hadn't wanted to, of course, but then once he was there his brothers didn't even last a full five minutes with him, they all just left. Not a word from any of them, as if he wasn't even in the room. Why would he want to spend time in a room with people who didn't even seem to know he was there? Why would they care where he was if they didn't even notice him when he was around. It didn't make any sense to him.

He didn't realize tears were falling down his cheek until a sudden chill hit him and the steaks felt hot against his cheeks. He used the sleeve of his coat to wipe the tears away. He walked down to railroad crossing and looked around to make sure no one was watching. There weren't many homes around that part of the block. The few that were there were abandoned. He headed north up the tracks, walking quickly because of the cold. The tracks would take him to the river. He wasn't sure why he was heading that way, he just wanted to walk. He had to work off some of the anger that was building up inside of him. If he were honest, it was more hurt than anger. It hurt that his brothers seemed to forget about him so easily. It always had.

When he was seven and Evelyn had first brought him home as a foster son, he'd been terrified of all four of the Mercer brothers. He'd been wary of them. Bobby had been the first one to acknowledge him, not that he'd been happy to have him there, he had just been the first one who seemed to talk to him. Even though Craig was cautious of the man he was mesmerized by him at the same time. After a while, he thought Bobby was just the greatest person on the face of the earth, after Evelyn of course. It didn't matter that the man seemed to get irritated with him so easy. He'd try to act and talk the way Bobby did, he'd try to make sure he didn't mess up so Bobby would spend time with him, but it never worked. It seemed the harder he tried, the more Bobby hated him being near. He'd tried with Jeremiah, Angel, and Jack too, but they were always with Bobby, and they always talked to him the same as Bobby did. Nothing he did was ever good enough. After Jerry settled down, he was a little easier to be around. He'd talk to him some. After Jack moved out, it seemed Jerry acted a little more interested. He'd ask him about school, and tell him to be sure to stay out of trouble. A few times he'd picked him up from school because Evelyn had to work late, and he'd take him to his house and he'd hang out there until his Mom came to pick him up. It wasn't as if they were close, but it was better than being told to stay out of the way. Jerry seemed to care at least.

It seemed he reached the street that ran along the river sooner than he should have. He looked around and there was hardly any traffic at all. It was quiet, and dark, and cold. He walked up the street until he came to the bridge. It wasn't a main street, but any time he'd been there it seemed there was more activity. It was a holiday though, and holidays seemed to change everything for people, the way they talk, act, and spend their time. He walked half way across the bridge, and stopped, leaning on the railing and looking out at the frozen river. It was beautiful. He wished then that he'd brought his sketch pad with him. It would have made a beautiful picture. The lights of downtown seemed to reflect off the ice with different colors than if it had been water.

He remembered back to a time when he and Evelyn had spent a Saturday afternoon shopping, and afterwards she had walked with him to the bridge, he had to smile at that memory. It had been one of his favorite places to go and think for a long time. He seemed to need to think a lot, and that was one thing that his brothers had never understood. He wasn't into hockey or football the way they were. Sure, he liked to play the games from time to time, but he didn't live for it. He liked basketball and baseball more, but neither one were his favorite past time. He could sit and sketch for hours on end. It was a need, not a hobby. He had to sketch when he was happy, when he was stressed, and when he was scared.

The need to think all of the time was being disrupted by his brothers; that was the problem. Bobby didn't seem to think it was normal for a kid to want to sit and think.

He looked up at the sky and wished he could see some stars. He liked watching for shooting stars. It occurred to him that he felt more at peace at that moment than he had since Sunday night. His hand reached up and felt the left side of his jaw. The bruising was still there, though it didn't show. The doctor at the emergency room had said that it would be sore for a few days. It hadn't really bothered him that much, unless he thought about it. It seemed strange that no one had really asked him about his jaw, where he'd been hit, but then, there was no visible bruise, it seemed like it was bruised on the inside, not on the outside. The outside bruise had cleared up pretty quick.

Craig stood there for a long time, thinking and looking at the river, without worrying about anything. Then he heard voices down at the other end of the bridge and glanced in that direction. There was a group of people moving towards him, but they didn't seem to notice him. It was the shadow form of a man leaning against the bridge railing nearly twenty feet from him that gave him the chills. The form seemed to be looking at him.

He knew it wasn't a good idea to be out too late, alone. He turned and headed back the way he had come, away from the voices, away from the man. He walked back down the tracks, and headed home. He kept glancing behind him, sure that he could feel someone watching him. He was starting to feel sleepy, and he didn't want to be roaming around the streets tired. He didn't think very well when he was tired.

He didn't see Bobby's car out in front of the house, so he figured he and Jack hadn't gotten back yet. He walked onto the back porch and took his shoes off as quietly as he could. He picked them up and walked into the house quietly. The living room light was still on, but it was quiet. No one was around. He didn't know why he was looking for any one. Angel would be in his room with Sofi for the rest of the night. Bobby probably took Jack to a bar so the two of them could get good and drunk and forget about their little fight. He pulled off his coat and hung it back up before heading up the stairs. He went to his room and got a pair of sweat pants and a flannel shirt and went to the rest room. He took his shower quickly and put on the clean clothes. It took less than ten minutes for him to return to his room. When he walked in his room he froze. Bobby as sitting on his bed, arms crossed at his chest, looking not so happy. He stared at Bobby for a long moment, not able to find his voice.

"Where the hell have you been?" Bobby's voice was very low, but the yell could be felt.

Craig walked over to the corner of his room and dropped his dirty clothes into the clothes basket sitting there. He wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't thought Bobby was home.

"Angel and Jack are out looking for you right now. So where have you been?" Bobby stood.

Craig felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked at Bobby, but still couldn't seem to find his voice.

"I told you no more 'walks', so if you tell me that you went for a god damned walk that's not going to be very good for you." Bobby didn't move towards him.

Craig looked down at his feet.

"Now you tell me what the hell you have been doing?" Bobby's voice was still quiet.

Craig couldn't think of anything to say. He hadn't cared before if he pissed his brothers off, but suddenly he cared. He hadn't thought about Bobby's initial reaction. He'd seen Bobby raging mad at people and it wasn't pretty.

"I said tell me what you have been doing!" Bobby yelled the words after nearly a full minute of silence.

Craig flinched at the sudden yell, and backed a step away from the man, not that he could go far, the dresser was right behind him.

"What is going through that head of yours?" Bobby didn't seem to notice the flinch; or the fact that the boy had backed away from him. He stepped right up to him, smacking the top of the dresser on either side of the boy with both hands, leaving them there and pinning Craig in his spot.

Craig kept his gaze away from Bobby's. He couldn't look him in the face. It was more than fear of Bobby, he was feeling guilty. He had purposely disobeyed him, and he'd done it hoping that his brother would get mad, though that didn't make much sense to him now. He hadn't thought about feeling guilty.

"Answer me! Don't just stand there like a damn mute!" Bobby yelled. "I have about had it with this bullshit from you, and it's only been one fucking day!" He would have been right in Craig's face if the boy hadn't had his head lowered. "Did you pull this kind of shit with Ma? Did she put up with this from you?"

Craig didn't try to answer. His eyes were starting to tear up and his throat was suddenly tight and raw.

Bobby didn't move, but he was quiet for what seemed like forever. When he did speak he didn't yell. "Do you know how worried we were? Hell I took Jack down to the store for some smokes and we come home to find the living room empty, we figured you were in your room. Angel comes down twenty minutes later and when I ask him where the fuck you are he says he thought you were still downstairs. We check your room, and you aren't even here. We've been out looking for your sorry ass ever since. It's after ten o'clock, do you know that? Do you know what is on these streets at ten o'clock? Nothing good is out there at this time of night! You scared the shit out of us!" His voice rose on the last statement.

Craig swallowed at his tight throat. "Sorry." He managed to get out, but barely. He didn't know why he felt so guilty. They had been the ones who left. All three of his brothers had walked out, not one had said a word to him.

"Where have you been?" Bobby asked.

Craig tried to look up at the man, but couldn't move. "I walked down to the bridge." He muttered.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "You walked down to the fucking bridge." He spoke quietly, and then laughed. "After I told you no more taking walks?"

Craig drew in a deep breath. "You said morning walks." He muttered. That was the truth. Bobby hadn't said he couldn't take any walks at night.

"Bullshit!" Bobby yelled. "That is fucking bullshit!" He stood up pulling his hands away from the dresser. "You knew you were not to be taking any more walks at any time!" He shook his head. "You aren't to go anywhere without one of us! You were grounded kid!"

"You never told me that." Craig muttered.

"Well I'm telling you now." Bobby backed away from the boy, but not far. "I shouldn't have had to tell you, I told you to sit in the fucking living room! I want to know what the hell you thought you were doing. What was going through that head of yours? Why did you leave this house?"

Craig shook his head slowly. "Why am I in trouble? You all left before I did." He muttered.

"What?" Bobby looked confused.

"You made such a big deal about me sitting in the living room, and then all three of you left. No one said where they were going. No one said a word to me. What does it matter if I went anywhere?" Craig was starting to feel a little less guilty as he remembered why he had left the house in the first place.

"Don't try to pull that bullshit on me."Bobby shook his head. "You knew you weren't to go anywhere. You never go anywhere after eight o'clock at night. You know that. I told you to sit in the fucking living room. I just took Jack on a two minute drive down to the store for cigarettes. All you had to do was keep your ass sitting on the fucking couch."

Craig held his arms across his stomach. He was starting to feel that rock forming in his gut again. "How was I supposed to know you were coming right back?" He managed to keep his gaze on Bobby. "You always walk off and don't come back."

The expression on Bobby's face seemed to change, but the boy couldn't read it. He wasn't sure if the statement had made him angrier or not. "Listen, kid, it don't matter what you think I'm doing. If I tell you to stay put somewhere, you keep your ass there. I should be able to trust you to do that! You never listen to me! Even when you were ten years old you didn't listen to me! You got your ass into trouble then because you wouldn't listen to me!"

"Only with you," Craig muttered. "What gives you the right to come in here and start telling me what to do? You're not my father." He shook his head. "You aren't even my real brother."

Bobby seemed to freeze at the words. His fists clenched at his side and his jaw seemed to lock up on him. "That's the way you feel?" His voice was tight. "Fine, you get your little ass to bed. I don't want to hear from you until morning." He stood there staring at the boy as if he wanted to say more.

Craig regretted the words as soon as he'd said them. He didn't mean them. He didn't want Bobby mad at him; he didn't want him to hate him. He just wanted Bobby to notice him sometimes. He wanted all of his brothers to notice him. They never seemed to take any notice of him at all. It had always been like that and it had always hurt, but Evelyn had always been there for him, and it hadn't been so bad. He needed someone to make the aching go away, but no one was. Evelyn could always make him feel better, no matter what. Even when his real father had come around the year before, Evelyn had assured him that the man couldn't get to him. He had been terrified. None of his brothers had been around for a while, except for Jeremiah, and his nightmares had come back then. His mom had helped him. He needed someone to help him, but he couldn't just tell them that. They wouldn't understand. They never understood anything he told them. "Bobby…" He started to say he was sorry.

Bobby cut him off. "No." He held up his finger. "Don't say a word." He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door so hard behind him that the walls seemed to vibrate.

Craig sat down on his bed and felt hot tears roll down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, frustrated with himself that he was crying again.

He pulled his sketch pad out from under his pillow and then pulled the blankets back on the bed. He wasn't going to sleep that night, he knew that. There was no way he could sleep, no matter how tired he was. He lay down on his left side, with his back to the door, an opened his pad to the drawing he'd been working on of his mother. He stared at her face for a long time. "I'm sorry Mom. I don't know what to do." He whispered quietly. "He hates me. He's always hated me." He let himself cry for a couple of minutes, then forced himself to stop. He flipped the page in the pad to the next clean sheet and picked up his pencil. He wasn't sure what he was going to draw. He just let the pencil start moving. After a few minutes there was a rough image of a man in a hockey jersey holding a hockey stick. He started working on the details, as his mind slipped back to earlier that day at the ice rink. He had three other men sketched in after some deep concentration. The image of the four of them skating towards him after their game was slowly taking shape. He could hear Bobby on the phone, talking in a loud voice. "No, he's home. Come on home. I'll tell you when you get here. I already called Jerry." He obviously was talking to Angel, or Jack. "He's fine. He's in his room." It sounded as if Bobby was right outside his door. He looked over his shoulder, half expecting the door to open, but it didn't. After a few moments he heard Bobby's voice again, but it seemed to be fainter, as if he were moving away.

Craig turned his attention back to his drawing. He heard Angel's voice about twenty minutes later as he came through the front door. Fifteen minutes after that he heard it again, at the bottom of the steps. "Where the hell is he?"

"Just leave him be Angel." Bobby called out. "It can wait. I'll deal with it."

Craig heard Angel stomping up the stairs and quickly closed his pad. He sat up just as Angel pushed open his bedroom door.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Angel yelled. "Get your ass out of that bed and stand here while I talk to your sorry ass."

Craig couldn't move.

"What the hell did you say to Bobby?" Jack appeared in the doorway behind Angel. He didn't look very happy either.

"We just spent two hours of our time searching for you, and come home to hear you made a statement like that to Bobby? You think that way?" Angel's voice was loud.

Craig tried to shake his head, tried to say 'no, I don't really think that'. But he couldn't make any of it happen. He'd never seen his brothers that angry, especially Jack, who was glaring him.

"Youngster, your mother raised you better than that." Angel shook his head and the anger seemed to die instantly. The expression on his face was more of pain than anything. "You think about what we've all lost here. She was our Mom too. I think that's enough to have to deal with, don't you? You don't need to make any more problems. You got that? No more of this bullshit. You think we're gonna let you pull this shit all of the time? Bobby's not the only one here you know, we all are, and I will put you over my knee and wail your ass if it doesn't stop." Angel turned and pushed his way past Jack.

Jack stood there for a moment. "He won't do that." He shook his head. "He won't spank you." Jack seemed to be trying to make Craig feel better.

Craig stared at Jack.

"Remember when you were about ten, and Bobby had gone back on the road with the league?" He asked and smiled. "Angel had gone into the Marines. Jerry just married Camille. You got real quiet and didn't talk much for a couple of days. Mom told you that it was okay, that they would be back. Well, they're back. I'm back."

Craig looked away from Jack and fixed his eyes on the wall. He wanted to say that they may be back now, but they wouldn't stay. They had all left once, and they would all leave again.

"Stop trying to get our attention, you got it." Jack's voice was quiet. "You got all of our attention." Jack pulled the door closed and walked out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the nice reviews :)

Just for the sake of staying on the good side of legal, Four Brothers aren't mine, and there is no money changing hands :)

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_**Chapter 3: Memories**_

Craig stared at the closed door for a long while before going back to his sketch. He started working on more detail. He could see the gleam in Bobby's eyes, the way Jack had a faraway look to him. Jerry was holding his cell phone up to his ear and Angel was using the back of one hand to wipe at the nick on his chin; the four of them together. It had always been the four of them, side by side, and Craig watching, wanting to be one of them, and never being able to. He worked on the sketch for a long time. When he was finished with it the house felt quiet and still. There had been faint talking just after Jack closed the door, he was sure of that.

He glanced at his alarm clock, and the red numbers read twelve fourteen. It was after midnight. It was the next day. His mother had been dead for ninety seven hours and two minutes. He wasn't sure about the seconds. He was certain about the minutes though. It had been just after eleven when they had gone into the store and ran into Darnell, stealing a piece of candy out of the plastic canister sitting on the counter. His mother had a field day with that one. By the time Darnell had left the store, promising that he would never steal again it had been almost ten after eleven. Craig had asked if he could go back behind the meat counter, to the back room and use the restroom. He and his mother were in the store almost every day, and the owner and clerk both knew them well. He'd done what he needed to very quickly, washed and dried his hands and had come out right at that moment, looking at the clock on the wall as he passed it. It was sketched into his brain just like the picture of his brothers skating towards him on the ice. Twelve minutes past eleven.

Craig turned the page of the sketch pad and started sketching. He almost didn't realize he was drawing his mother's form, arm held up in an attempt to shield her from the inevitable. His left arm started to itch intensely as he drew, and he scratched at it before continuing to sketch out the picture that was taking place in his mind. He closed his eyes as he remembered the blood. He could smell it, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. His arm started itching again, and again he scratched. It seemed the more he drew the more his arm itched. He pulled off his shirt, dropped his pencil and started scratching at the itch, but it wouldn't go away. He squeezed his eyes closed tight and scratched as hard as he could. He almost didn't realize he was doing it. The itch was just below his left thumb, not on his wrist, but on the side of his arm. He pressed harder and harder, digging, trying to get the itch out. He forced his mind to concentrate on the itch, and not the memories of that night that were floating around in his brain. He curled himself up into a ball in the corner at the head of the bed kept scratching. He was working up some speed on the scratch when his skin started to feel hot, wet and a little sticky. He froze instantly as he realized at that moment what he was doing. He'd promised Evelyn he would never do it again. He had sworn to her that he would go to her if he felt the urge. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that she wasn't there to go to. She couldn't help him fight the urge any more. The itch was gone now, but another was stirring on the back of his right arm. He opened his eyes and slowly moved them down to his arm where he had been scratching. The skin was red and hot, and the blood had dotted up in spots, smeared by his fingers, but not actually flowing. He had stopped himself before it had gotten too bad. His stomach suddenly threatened to heave on him. He stood and quickly pulled open his door. He found the house dark and quiet. He didn't turn on any lights; he just headed straight to the bathroom. He stood in front of the toilet praying he wouldn't get sick. After several minutes his stomach seemed to settle. He thought about trying to put a bandage on his arm, but knew he would never be able to look at it without getting sick. He hated blood. He felt hot tears burning his eyes and tried to decide what to do.

He walked out into the hall and stared at the closed door of his mother's room. Bobby was sleeping in his mother's bed. He'd always gone into that room when his mother was there and felt safe enough to sleep. He drew in a short, shaky breath and slowly turned the doorknob. He pushed it open quietly and stepped in. Bobby was asleep on the bed. He stood there and watched his brother sleeping, wanting to wake him and ask him to help him. Bobby was mad at him though. He wouldn't appreciate being brought out of a sound sleep because Craig had screwed up again. Bobby and Angel had both told him they weren't going to put up with his shit anymore and this was just more shit. He knew none of them would be very happy with him scratching his arm, and being up in the middle of the night. He wasn't real sure what time it was either. From his position he couldn't see the clock on the bedside stand in his mother's room, but he knew it was late. He backed out of the room, quietly, pulling the door closed. He went back to the restroom, turned on the light and closed the door. He was going to have to clean it up himself. He thought that maybe he had calmed down enough to not get sick. He had cleaned his own arms before, when he was younger and trying to hide what he did. He should be able to do it now, this wasn't too bad, he had stopped himself in time. He didn't need any one to do it for him. His brothers didn't need to know about it. They would only be that much more upset with him.

Craig turned on the water in the sink, and opened the medicine cabinet. He found a roll of bandages and some medical tape. He found some peroxide as well, and preferred that over alcohol or iodine. He purposely concentrated on the task at hand, blocking out the pain, and the fear. He only half looked at it as he cleaned it and then bandaged it. He prayed he'd cleaned it well enough. He cleaned up the supplies quickly, afraid someone would hear him moving around and come to find out what was going on.

By the time he got back to his room he felt exhausted. He pulled on his flannel shirt so that his arm was covered and then picked up his sketch pad and sat back down on the bed. He turned to a clean page, avoiding looking at his last sketch. He wasn't sure what it was now that he'd been sketching out, but he didn't want to look and remind himself. He didn't want to revisit that place in his mind where he started to itch. He glanced at his clock. It was almost two o'clock. He wanted to sleep, wished he could sleep. He knew if he fell asleep he'd dream, and he didn't want to dream. He held the pencil to the paper and waited for something to start. He rarely had to think very hard to start a sketch. It always flowed out of him. At that moment it seemed nothing was going to come out. That happened sometimes when he was too tired. Of course he could start a sketch, and keep at it no matter how tired he became, but if he didn't have that first line on the paper, it wouldn't come. He closed his eyes, only for a few minutes, to try to clear his head.

He felt himself lay down, and his hand relaxed around the pencil. Sleep came more quickly than he'd expected, and he was swimming in darkness. He thought he heard his mother's voice calling to him. He turned his head to try to listen harder, but he didn't hear it again. He didn't dream right away. He slept peacefully for a while, and somehow comprehended the fact that he wasn't dreaming. His mind started flashing the pictures after some time, and he managed to jerk his self out of the sleep before he actually started dreaming. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and leaned against the wall next to his bed. He looked at the clock again, to find it was almost five. He'd managed to sleep for three hours. He drew in a deep breath and got out of bed. He got dressed, trying to stay quiet. He made his bed, slowly, not wanting to creak of his floor to wake any one. The sketch pad was slid under his mattress, and he walked out of his room, heading downstairs. He wasn't hungry, but he was thirsty. He got out the orange juice and poured himself a glass. He sat at the table and drank it faster than he meant to. He filled his glass again, emptying the carton, and hoping no one would be upset with him for drinking the last of the juice, though he was sure someone would yell at him for it.

From the first day Evelyn brought him home the four Mercer brothers hadn't wanted him there. They were nice most of the time, but they just didn't want him around, in their way. They were pretty rough around the edges, and he didn't like being around the rough housing, it reminded him too much of other things in his life. He was only seven at the time, but he'd seen more than most seven year olds seen. He'd seen more than any one any age should see. Evelyn had told him once that he could tell his new brothers what he wanted to about his real parents. He didn't have to tell them anything, or he could tell them everything. It didn't matter. She told him he was safe there, with her and her sons, that they would always protect him. As he got used to being there he started following the brothers around whenever he could. If their bedroom doors were open he'd go to the doorway and look in at them, hoping they would invite him in and talk to him and let him be one of t hem. They never did though. Usually the door was slammed closed with at yell to go away and let them be. Jeremiah and Jack didn't yell much, they both made it clear that they were too old to be having a little runt in their shadow holding them back. Bobby never wanted anything to do with him. That was why his fascination with the older Mercer was puzzling. He'd been more drawn to Bobby than his other three brothers. He played street hockey with the neighborhood kids to try to impress Bobby. He played hard too, and was pretty good. He didn't really like the game; he just wanted to get Bobby's attention. It worked a few times, but not very much. On the rare occasion that they had taken him with him to the rink the outcome was usually pretty much the same as it had been the day before. Bobby usually got irritated with him, and yelled too much, and then Craig would back off, not wanting Bobby mad at him.

None of his brothers had ever asked him about his life before he came to the Mercer home, so he never offered details. He was pretty sure they didn't want to hear about a seven year old kid who watched his father blow his mother's brains out, and then aim the sights on him and pull the trigger. If the gun hadn't jammed the boy would have been dead. He'd managed to run while his father cussed at the gun. He didn't remember the bullet hitting his back and falling to the floor. He didn't remember his father throwing the gun at him and screaming at him that it was all his fault that he'd had to kill his Mamma and him. He didn't remember the beating that ensued afterward, or the police coming in and tackling the man to the floor. He didn't remember the hospital. He didn't remember any of that except in his dreams and his drawings. He remembered his first foster home though. He'd only been placed in one other home other than Evelyn's.

He remembered the drunk who let his wife bring in foster kids because they couldn't have any of their own. Craig's job had been to keep quiet and not move. The man didn't like noise, and moving around distracted him from his television programs. If Craig moved he got hit. If he tried to talk, he was hit. The last time the drunk had hit him, Craig had experienced what he was later told was his first flashback. He'd lashed out at the man, biting him and kicking him. Of course that only made his beating worse. He woke up in the hospital that time, and was taken to St. Vincent's Children's Home when he was well enough. He was there for a few months, and it became obvious he was not going to be placed in another foster home. He hid inside himself, and he was afraid and angry. Evelyn came into his life while he was in St. Vincent's. She had come to see him seven or eight times and she was the one that brought him out of his shell. He started talking to her, a little. And over some time he was drawn to her, accepted her affection and thought of her more of a mother than a visitor. She finally asked him if he would like to come home and live with her. He didn't know then that she had adopted four boys previously. He certainly didn't think he was going to be adopted.

Evelyn Mercer adopted him just after he turned nine. He had no immediate family, except for his father, and the man was in prison. At that point in time it was believed that he would be in prison for life. He'd signed away his parental rights allowing Evelyn to adopt the boy. His new mother had brought home a cake and ice cream, and treated it like a birthday party. None of his brothers had shown up though. Craig had seen pictures of their parties from when Evelyn adopted them. They had all been there for Jack's party, and Bobby and Jerry had been there for Angel's. On the one day that he should have felt more like one of them, he felt more separated from them.

It was the day after the 'party' that Bobby, Jerry, Angel and Jack had argued with Evelyn about missing the cake and ice cream. Craig had been in his room during this discussion, and wasn't supposed to hear the words, or so he figured. Jerry said he wasn't able to get off work. Bobby had reasoned that he was working as well, and since his job at the time wasn't very steady he had to take the work when it came, and that was more important than a party for a little kid, since the money for the kid's clothes and food had to come from somewhere. Jack and Angel never did explain why they hadn't been there, though it was hinted to later that Angel had been with Sofi, and Jack had been playing with his band somewhere. Evelyn had lectured them all for a long time, but Craig had retreated to his bed and didn't listen to any more.

Evelyn told him later that Bobby didn't mean what he'd said, that he actually felt bad about missing his party. Apparently he'd had a bad night at work and he'd worked a double shift. She'd told him that Bobby just wasn't very good at voicing his feelings and sometimes it came out wrong. It hadn't made Craig feel any better though. A few days afterwards Craig had come home from school to find a new pair of shoes resting on his bed. Evelyn told him they were from Bobby. Craig still had those shoes under his bed, in their box. He'd worn them until they were nearly falling apart, but he couldn't part with them. They were his proof that Evelyn may have been right every time she told him Bobby didn't hate him.

Bobby never really moved out. He went on the road more than he had before, and came home less and less. Angel joined the Marines, because one of his scams turned sour and he felt he needed to do something more dignified, like shooting big guns and strutting around in his uniform. At least that was what he'd said. Jeremiah got married and moved, and then Jack graduated from high school and decided to go to New York. He claimed that he was going to be star. No one ever really talked to him when they called home, or during their brief visits. Jeremiah talked to him more after he was married than he had when he was living at home it seemed. He'd ask how his grades in school were, and if he was staying out of trouble. "Are you doing your part around the house to help out Ma?" He'd ask. From time to time, Jeremiah would joke with him a little, but he was so absorbed in his own family that he didn't have that much time to spend anyone else.

There were things that his older brothers did for him when he was younger because Evelyn asked them to. Jack walked him to and from school every day, just like Anthony had pointed out at the ice rink, but only because his mother would ask him to. He'd complain the whole time, not happy with having to babysit a little kid. Bobby would sit out in front and watch him playing in the street, also because his mother asked him to. He never really paid that much attention to what was going on, and usually he was long gone before it was time for Craig to go in the house. Jeremiah would help him with his homework, but only because Evelyn told him the work was much harder than when Jack was that age, and she just couldn't grasp it. Usually Jerry would get frustrated because Craig couldn't understand it. Angel was in charge of making sure Craig did his 'chores'. Not that there were many of them. The biggest responsibility he had was to keep his room clean, and he did that without any prodding.

So it had mostly been just him and Evelyn for most of the time he'd lived with her. They'd developed their own routine, and they had their own private jokes. Mostly the jokes were about his brothers. He knew she thought it might make him feel like he belonged if she shared the private jokes with him. She would tell him stories about the four older Mercer boys, and the trouble they got into when they were younger. The antics they would pull, and the laughs and tears that they had all shared. In a way it did give Craig a sense of having some sort of connection with his brothers, though it was a very thin one. When his brothers started talking about the good times they had when they were younger it seemed the stories would be a little different from the way Evelyn told them, and each seemed to have their own version of events for everything they had ever done. Evelyn would look at the boy and just wink and smile.

Craig found himself feeling a little more relaxed sitting at the table, thinking about some of the good times he'd had with his mother. He stifled a yawn and got up from the table. His body still wanted something to drink, so he went to the refrigerator and pulled out the gallon of milk. He rinsed the juice residue out of his glass, and when he had the glass filled with milk he turned to go back to the dining room table. Angel walked into the kitchen fully dressed. Craig froze, surprised that he hadn't heard Angel moving around in his room which was right above the dining room.

Angel looked at him. "Did you eat anything?" He asked the question with a stiff voice. It was obvious that he was still upset by what had happened the night before.

Craig shook his head, and didn't move. He swallowed back his fear. "Angel?" He spoke with a shaky voice.

The man kept his gaze on the boy. "What?"

"I didn't mean what I said last night. I'm sorry."Craig fought back the tears that were trying to seep out.

Angel stared at him for a long moment before the features of his face softened. "You have to have more than milk." The man smiled and shook his head. "Get out the eggs. There should still be a little bacon in there too. I'm making a decent breakfast." He bent down and opened the cupboard holding the frying pans.

Craig felt his body turn shaky. He carefully set his glass of milk on the counter and got out the eggs and bacon. "I drank the orange juice. Sorry." He muttered as he put the items on the counter next to the stove.

Angel looked at him. "That's not a problem, there wasn't much left. We'll send Jackie to the store when he gets his sorry ass out of the shower."

As if on cue the pipes above them banged and rattled.

"You sleep last night?" Angel asked, almost in a normal voice.

Craig was surprised Angel hadn't yelled at him for drinking the last of the juice. "Yeah, I slept." He spoke quietly. It wasn't a full lie; he did get a little sleep.

Angel looked over at the boy while he started the bacon. "You don't look too good." He spoke a little less tense that time. "Don't fucking lie to me. Did you sleep?"

"Yes. I slept." Craig repeated.

"So what time did you wake up?" Angel turned back to his task of getting the bacon in the pan.

"I don't know. About five I guess." Craig didn't have to lie about that.

"Five." Angel nodded his head, "And what time did you go to sleep?"

"I don't know." Craig picked up his milk and started for the dining room again. It seemed things were okay with Angel. The man didn't seem to hate him.

"Don't walk away from me." Angel called out, his voice not sounding angry, just loud.

Craig turned back to the man and waited. He hated it when his brothers did this. They had done it since they had been home. They seemed to think they had to raise their voices with him.

"You can get the plates out and set the table." Angel pointed to the cupboard above the sink. "You know how to help out around here, so help."

Craig did what Angel told him. He was thankful that the man has seemed to have forgiven him, so he couldn't complain about setting out the plates and silverware. He was going for the glasses when Bobby walked in. He stopped and looked at Bobby, who walked straight to the coffee maker to start a pot of coffee. Bobby looked at Angel. "Well that looks good." He spoke in a normal voice. He didn't look over at Craig at all.He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was wet, as if he'd just gotten out of the shower.

Angel looked at Bobby and laughed. "You need to go get some juice." He spoke casually. "I was gonna send Jack, but you made it down first."

"Yeah, the fairy took his shower and was primpin' in front of the mirror the whole time I took mine. I was done, dressed and out of the room and he was still standing there with only his jeans on." Bobby laughed. "I thought we had juice." He remarked

"Not much. Just go get some, would you?" Angel asked.

Bobby laughed, walked towards the front of the house, and put on a gray hooded sweatshirt before pulling on his coat. Craig watched him 

walk out the front door. He wasn't shocked that Bobby hadn't spoken to him, but the man hadn't even looked at him.

Angel looked at the boy. "He'll get over it." He remarked. "I did, didn't I?"

Craig wanted to tell Angel he didn't think Bobby would get over it so easy, but the man went back to his cooking.


	7. Chapter 7

Legal stuff- No animals were injured in the making of this story...oops, wrong one...I don't own Four Brothers, don't make any money :)

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, I'm surprised by so many nice comments!

* * *

**_Chapter 7: The Lawyer's Office_**

Jack came down the stairs just as Bobby was walking through the door ten minutes later. Craig had finished setting the table and was now sitting at it, drinking his milk, getting more and more nervous about having to face Bobby. He was afraid Bobby would keep giving him the silent treatment, and at the same time he was afraid he would start yelling at him. His brothers stayed in the kitchen while Angel cooked breakfast. He heard Angel telling his brothers the least they could do was make the toast. Craig heard the four slice toaster 'pop' a few minutes later. Jack walked in carrying a platter of bacon and Angel followed with bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of toast. Craig was sitting in his old seat, the one furthest from Bobby's. He hadn't done it on purpose, mostly out of habit. Bobby walked in with the jug of orange juice and his mug of coffee and sat in his chair. He started filling his plate without saying a word. The man didn't look at the boy, or say a word about him moving to the chair he had previously assigned to him. Angel sat in the seat that Jeremiah used to occupy when he was home for meals. Jack looked at Craig, then at Bobby. The boy was staring down at his plate; Bobby was busy filling his own with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Jack took the bowl of eggs after Angel dished out his own. He put some eggs on his plate, and then scooped some out for Craig. Craig watched silently as Jack gave him a piece of bacon and a slice of toast.

Craig picked up the bacon and took a small bite, not looking at Bobby, who was eating quietly.

"So, what time is Jerry supposed to pick us up?" Jack asked after several minutes of silence.

"He's supposed to be here about ten thirty. We need to be at the lawyer's office at eleven." Angel answered as he chewed on some eggs.

"What time is it now?" Bobby looked at Angel.

"It's going on eight." Angel shrugged his shoulders. "I still need to get a shower, and since I cooked the meal, someone else is cleaning up." He spoke quickly.

"Yeah, yeah," Bobby laughed. "You can cook almost as well as Jackie here." He started poking fun at Angel, and that turned into poking fun at Jack. It didn't take long for the three of them to start cracking jokes back and forth at each other. Things seemed normal, and it felt strange to Craig that they could act like that. He felt miserable inside, and he kept waiting for Bobby to look at him and start yelling, but that never happened. His brothers seemed to finish their breakfast quickly, got up from the table and walked out of the dining room.

Craig didn't look up from his plate, which was still full. He had taken a few small bites out of his bacon. He wasn't hungry. He swallowed hard at the tightness in his throat, wishing the chunk of ice in his gut would go away. He remembered what Bobby had said about not dumping food. He remembered what both Bobby and Angel had said about not putting up with his shit. He didn't mean to be causing problems. He thought that maybe if he ate, if he did what he was supposed to that maybe Bobby would look at him at least. He didn't understand why it was bothering him so much that his oldest brother wouldn't look at him, or talk to him. He had wanted Bobby to leave him alone, didn't he?

He forced himself to take a bite of the eggs. It took some effort to swallow them. Then he picked up the toast and took a bite of that. He chewed slowly, wondering where his brothers had gone to. He knew Angel was in the shower, he heard the pipes rattle and bang. He couldn't hear Bobby or Jack. He didn't hear any footsteps on the floors above him. He managed to eat his food, though it took him a while, and once he was done his stomach felt as if it might rebel against him. He was thankful that Jack hadn't given him too much. He gave his stomach some time to settle down to a dull ache before he started clearing the table. He waited until the water upstairs stopped running before running the dishwater. He washed the dishes; put away the leftover eggs and bacon, thinking that Sofi might want them later. He washed off the counters and the dining room table. He didn't rush through the work, hoping that Jerry would be there soon. Maybe Jerry's presence would ease some of the tension. Then he remembered that Bobby had talked to Jerry on the phone the night before, and more than likely Jerry knew what Craig had said. He would probably be pissed, just like Bobby. Jack didn't seem that upset now, but he hadn't talked to him either. He reminded himself that Jack had always been mostly quiet. He would have to remember to apologize to Jack the first chance he got. Angel was the only one who had spoken to him at all. He was the only one who had given him the chance to say he was sorry.

Craig walked into the living room, and looked out the front window. Bobby and Jack were standing out front, laughing and talking. Jack was smoking a cigarette. He turned and made his way up the stairs, heading to his room. He sat on his bed and waited. He figured one of his brothers would yell for him when Jerry got there. He was supposed to go to Mr.Bradley's office with them. Of course that was before he'd screwed up again and told Bobby he wasn't his real brother. Maybe because he'd said that Bobby wouldn't want him to go. Then a thought struck him. Bobby was supposed to sign papers that would make him Craig's legal guardian. What if Bobby decided now that he wasn't going to sign the papers? The fear grew stronger the longer the boy sat in his room.

* * *

Bobby had gone outside with Jack while Jack smoked a cigarette. Jack had always been thoughtful not to smoke downstairs in the house. Their mother had never liked smoking, but she had never badgered Jack for picking up the habit. He kept it outside, or in his room, and had never smoked around her out of respect.

Jack looked at Bobby after several minutes of silence. "You're awfully quiet." He commented.

Bobby shook his head. "I just don't know what to hell to do with him." Bobby spoke quietly.

Jack smiled. "Craig?" He asked.

Bobby looked down the street. "Yeah, Craig," he nodded his head.

"Damn Bobby, just take it easy. Like Jerry says, you're always hard on Craig. You were never hard on me like that, and God knows I've given you reason to be." Jack laughed and inhaled deeply on his cigarette.

"Yeah, well it was different with you. He's my responsibility. You were Ma's responsibility." Bobby turned his head and looked up the street in the other direction.

Jack laughed. "He was Mom's responsibility. You have always been like that with him."

"No, he was my responsibility. He was little, and he needed food, and clothes and someone had to make sure he had that." Bobby finally looked at Jack.

Jack looked at his brother for a long moment. "Man that was Mom's job, not yours. You are his brother, not his father. None of us could really relate to him before, it wasn't just you, but you always came down hard on him."

"I know I'm his brother." Bobby looked at Jack. "But you know I had never had to deal with a kid brother who was like, knee high to me before. None of us were that young when Ma took us in. None of us were that quiet, and for damn sure none of us were that innocent." He talked quietly. "It's not like I could take him to the places I went to back then. I didn't want him to see the things I did when I wasn't home."

Jack laughed. "Besides, you already had me to carry the gas can."

Bobby laughed. "That's just it, you knew how it was. We all did, but he never had to know. There was no need." He drew in a deep breath. "I didn't want him turning out like us Jack. I didn't want him to be angry inside and not know how to let it out. And now that's exactly what's happening. Mom showed us how to get over it, but damn, I don't know what to do with him."

Jack shook his head. "He didn't mean what he said last night Bobby."

"Yes he did." Bobby didn't hesitate. "He meant it. That's okay though, I can deal with that. I'm pissed off at him, but I can deal with it. He's right. I never treated him the same way I treated you. I couldn't. I was working long hours, and trying to bring in money so the kid didn't have to go without shit. I didn't want him to grow up with so little. I wanted him to be happy."

"You were trying to be a parent." Jack asked. "Like I said, that was Mom's job."

"No, Jack, I was trying to be a big brother. I'm twelve years older than him. You really think I could act the same way with a seven year old as I acted with you? I didn't know when Mom brought him home that being a brother to such a little kid would be so fucking hard. It nearly gave me panic attacks. I could only imagine what Mom went through with us, and I didn't want it to be that hard for her with him. Can you understand that?"

Jack smiled. Very few people could understand the Bobby's reasoning, but Jack could see it, though it didn't make much sense to him, he knew Bobby well enough to read between the lines. "You need to give it some time Bobby." He tried to be reassuring.

"Time hell, I need him to talk to me. He won't tell me what happened. If Ma were here he'd tell her what the hell had happened." Bobby sounded frustrated.

"Well, you aren't her, and she's not here." Jack pointed out. "He worships the ground you walk on Bobby. You know that, right? Eventually he will tell you everything that happened; you just have to give him time."

"I'm not used to asking someone a question and not getting an answer. Most people are too fucking scared of me to not answer. I don't want him scared of me, so I can't push him. We don't have TIME. We need to find the sons of bitches that killed Ma." Bobby cried out.

"Well, it looks like we're gonna have to find them without him telling us shit then, right? If he hadn't been in that store with Mom, then we'd have to do it with out any information from him anyway." Jack pointed out. "We can do this without making him talk about it right now."

* * *

Craig sat on his bed, listening to the radio that sat on his dresser. His mind was running through all the scenerios he could think of with Bobby not signing the custody papers. He imagined going back to St. Vincents, and he imagined other foster homes. What kept coming back to his mind was his father. If Bobby didn't sign the papers, he would probably end up back with his father. The man had tried to kill him, he'd killed his real mother. He'd held a gun to her and pulled the trigger without even thinking. The reason for it? She'd walked in and caught him on top of his own son, hurting him. It hadn't been the first time, but it had been the first time she'd caught him. his father was tripped out on drugs and booze and he'd just lost it when his wife started her screaming and making threats. Craig had been six at the time, and his memories from that night weren't very vivid. His father had told him that his mother would hate him if she ever knew, and that was what he remembered most, the fear that his mother wouldn't love him anymore.

His father should have been in prison, but some idiot cop screwed up and didn't read him his rights when he was arrested, at least that was what Evelyn had said. That arguement had won him another trial, and freedom. It seemed as if he were doomed to end up back with the man and the more he thought about that the more scared he was that Bobby wouldn't sign the papers.

It was quarter after ten when Angel poked his head in the door. "Come on, we need to go. Jerry's here." He walked out without closing the door after him.

Craig felt himself rise off of his bed. He followed Angel down the stairs and put on his jacket. Angel yelled up at Sofi that they were leaving, and motioned for Craig to walk out ahead of him.

Craig rode in the back of the Volvo with Angel and Jack sandwiched on either side of him. No one talked much on the drive. Craig hadn't missed the fact that Jerry didn't say hello to him when he got into the car, in fact Jerry didn't look at him the same as Bobby.

Jerry parked the car in a parking garage and they all got out. The four older Mercers seemed to group together. Bobby and Jeremiah in the front, walking so close together their arms was rubbing together. Angel walked behind Bobby, Jack walked behind Jeremiah, looking as if they were attached to the older brothers in the lead. Craig followed a few feet back, watching his brothers' strides. They all seemed to have the same swagger about them. The four of them swung their arms the same. They all slowed down at the same time, and they sped up at the same time. It amazed the boy how they all seemed so much alike. If all four had been born with the same color of skin there would have been no way anyone could tell they were adopted brothers and not blood brothers.

They had to walk out of the garage, down the street and cross over at the intersection to the tall office building where Mr. Bradford's firm had their offices. Craig had been there a few times. He hadn't seen Mr. Bradford for a while, and was hoping the man didn't say too much about how well he knew Evelyn Mercer. His mother hadn't wanted too many people to know. She told Craig that she didn't think it was anyone else's business, and besides, she knew how her older boys were. They were liable threaten the man if they knew he was 'seeing' their mother for more than business purposes. She had laughed and made jokes, but she had told her youngest son that Robert Bradford was their secret. Craig had agreed. He liked having private secrets with his mother.

While they waited at the corner for the light to change so they could cross, Bobby finally spoke. "So, how did Ma find this guy anyway?" He spoke loud enough for Craig to hear him; even as far back as he was from the man.

"I think she first seen him last year, when she was having all the trouble from that asshole." Jerry answered.

"What asshole?" Angel asked.

Jerry glanced back at Angel. "I don't know all of the details, but some guy was trying to sue her for something. Mom wouldn't tell me anything about it. Hell I found out about it by accident. Seen some papers on the dining room table one day and asked her about it. You know how she was. Whatever it was she got a lawyer and she won the case."

"Well, apparently she said enough that you just called him an asshole." Bobby spoke sarcastically. "What did she tell you?"

"She said that she'd had to call the police on him a couple of times because he showed up at the house, raising all kinds of hell." Jerry shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to get her to bring Craig and come and stay with me until it was cleared up, but she just laughed it off and said she could handle any asshole that tried to come around causing trouble."

Jack laughed. "Well she obviously took care of it. Maybe we can get this lawyer to tell us something about that while we're here."

Craig felt his stomach twist up on him. His brothers were going to ask Mr. Bradford about the asshole that had given his mother a hard time the year before. The asshole would be his father, and he was sure if they found out about that they would just hate him even more than they already did. His mother had been dead for less than a week and with each passing hour he could feel his whole life being ripped away.

The light changed and group started walking again. It took Craig a moment to realize they were moving. He checked the street for cars, and followed, but not as quickly as he probably should have. There was close to twenty feet separating him and his brothers now. He could see they were talking, but he could no longer hear what they were saying. He didn't try to catch up to them; he just tried to not lose any more ground. The four men walked through the lobby doors of the building and disappeared. He was almost to the doors when he felt as if someone was staring at him. He stopped at the corner of the building and turned around to look at the crowded sidewalk. His gaze fell on a man thirty yards behind him, just standing there, looking at him. From that distance he couldn't make out any details, but he could have sworn it was his father. He shivered as a chill ran down his spine. He was just standing there, looking at him. A long grey coat and a black hat was all he was sure of. The shape of the man reminded him eerily of the form that had been watching him the night before at the bridge. He turned and walked over to the door, pulling it open quickly. His brothers were waiting for the elevator, and they didn't seem to notice that he'd been lagging so far behind. He glanced back at the glass lobby door, but didn't see the man again. The elevator door opened and they got on. The elevator was big, and Craig managed to lean against a wall, unnoticed. The air seemed to grow thick. It was obvious that the four men were starting to feel nervous about seeing this lawyer.

Mr. Bradford met them in the outer office, and led them to the conference room. Craig was all too familiar with the room. He'd had to sit in that room and tell Mr. Bradford some very unpleasant things about his life with his father. He hadn't really relayed memories, only the vague feelings he could grasp a hold of. He'd had to bring some of his sketches to, at Evelyn's insistence. He didn't want to sit down, not this time. He stood back next to the window while his brothers pulled off their coats and hung them on the back of the four chairs lining one side of the table before sitting down. Mr. Bradford sat opposite of them. He looked at Craig and motioned to a chair at the end of the table.

Craig shook his head but didn't say anything.

Robert Bradford started talking quietly. He remarked to the men that he had only met their mother the one time; but she had made quite an impression. Craig let the man have a small smile, letting him know he knew what he was doing, and he understood why.

"But, I thought she hired you last year as well." Jerry spoke quickly.

Mr. Bradford glanced at Craig nervously, long enough for the boy to simply shake his head. Evelyn had told Robert that her older boys didn't know what was going on with Craig's father and she wanted to keep it that way. She'd also told him that she hadn't mentioned their relationship to them either. He knew Craig was reinforcing that by simply shaking his head.

"That matter was quite brief, and to be honest, my aid spoke with her, not I." He shook his head. "I did handle her final arrangements though." He cleared his throat. "I know its difficult dealing with mundane financial matters while your heart still grieves for a loved one." He tried to steer the conversation in another direction.

"Mr. Bradford, our mother never told us about the problem she was having before. Could you tell us about that?" Jerry asked again.

Frank Bradford glanced up at Craig quickly and it was obvious that he could read the look of desperation on the boy's face.

Angel followed the man's gaze, looking behind him at Craig. The boy noticed and quickly tried to hide his fear. He glanced at Angel, and then turned to look out the window. Angel looked back at Mr. Bradford.

Robert Bradford cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but that is not something I can discuss. Even though Ms. Mercer has passed on, we still have to honor the lawyer/client confidentiality." He spoke carefully. Craig hoped it only sounded bogus to him and that his brothers didn't pick up on it.

There was a moment of silence before Jack spoke. "So, how much do we get?"

"Jack!" Bobby spoke quietly and Craig could see him smack Jack in the back of the head. Jerry and Angel both moaned and mumbled things under their breath.

Mr. Bradford stood quickly and walked over to the desk at the end of the room. He picked a metal box and walked over with it. "Here are the contents of your mother's safety deposit box." He set it down on the table. "I'll leave you to look through it." He turned and walked out of the room quickly.

Craig turned and watched as Bobby opened the box. All four of the men seemed to lean in to look. Jack pulled out what appeared to be tickets and laughed, saying something about their mother being at Woodstock.

"Didn't you know Ma was a hippie?" Bobby laughed as he handed Jack a pack of papers and then pulled an envelope out and looked at it. He reached past Jack and handed the envelope to Jerry. Jack soon revealed his to be adoption papers and birth certificate. Jerry seemed happy to find out he'd been born right there in Detroit. Both made other quiet remarks that Craig couldn't quite make out.

"I got any papers in there?" Angel asked.

Bobby shook his head. "No." He spoke quietly.

"You got any papers in there?" Angel leaned closer to look into the metal box better.

"No." Bobby picked up another envelope, a little bigger and thicker than the one he'd given Jerry.

"Is that Craig's?" Angel asked.

Bobby nodded his head but didn't say anything for a long moment. He laid the envelope on the table and poked around in the box. "Here we go." All four men stood as Bobby pulled out a large roll of bills. He quickly counted the money once, and then divided it between Jerry, Angel and himself. When Jack asked what about him Bobby reached into the box and pulled out what appeared to be a necklace. He smiled when he handed it to Jack. "There you go, that will look good on you."

Angel and Jerry both laughed. Bobby picked the envelope up off of the table, and dropped it back in the box. He picked up box, and they all grabbed their coats and headed for the door. Craig followed slowly, wondering what was in the envelope. That was a secret Evelyn had not let him in on and he didn't like that. The fourteen year old felt sick inside. It seemed wrong that all of the important things in his mother's life fit into such a small box, but at the same time, it seemed that the items that came out of the box had fit what she was.

Mr. Bradford met them in the hall just outside of the conference room. "Well, I guess now we can go to my office and take care of the custody papers." He looked at Bobby.

Bobby nodded his head and followed Mr. Bradford down the hall. Jerry and Jack followed. Craig didn't move. He was sure that Bobby would back out, and he didn't really want to watch him not sign. This was where Bobby would refuse to sign any papers and then he'd tell Mr.Bradford he didn't want his youngest brother that he wasn't a real Mercer. He didn't walk like them or talk like them. He messed up too much. They never wanted him from the start.

"Don't you want to be there for this?" Angel's voice brought him out of his thoughts with a start. He hadn't noticed that Angel hadn't gone with them.

Craig shook his head slowly, looking away from the man. He walked over to the small lounge area and sat in a chair. He held his arms across his stomach.

Angel looked down the hall and then walked over and sat in a chair across from the boy. He looked at him for a long moment. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Craig didn't look at Angel. "I'm fine." He muttered. They sat in silence for a long time. Craig could feel Angel's stare on him.

"So, why don't you tell me what Mom hired this guy for last year?" Angel finally spoke quietly.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He lied.

"You don't know why Ma hired him?" Angel obviously didn't believe him.

"Like Jerry said, some asshole was giving her a hard time." Craig muttered.

"Who was the asshole and what was he giving her a hard time about?" Angel asked.

"I don't know." Craig didn't look up at the man. He prayed Angel would just let it be.

"Look, you were there, you know what happened. Why don't you just tell me?"Angel leaned forward.

Craig finally looked at his older brother. "Mom handled it. She didn't want to tell anyone." He spoke weakly. "What makes you think she told me anything?"

"Because I seen the looks between you and that lawyer." Angel answered the question quickly. "I also see fear on your face right now. Whatever it was it had to do with you. Did you get into some kind of trouble?" Angel asked.

Craig laughed at the thought. He was the straightest member of his family. He didn't even jay-walk. Okay, there was the graffiti thing at the school, but that was a dare and he hadn't been able to resist. Besides, his mother hadn't let him run the way she'd let her four older boys run. Shehad said he didn't like the same things his brothers liked, and there was no need to be acting like he did. His curfew was early, and he wasn't allowed to go anywhere by himself. "Me?" He asked.

Angel let a small smile slip and he shook his head. "It was that graffiti wasn't it? The school sued and they were buggin' Ma for money." He seemed proud of himself for coming up with an answer.

Craig shook his head. "No, the school didn't have to sue, Mom paid a fine and she paid to have it cleaned off. They just never cleaned it off." He felt bad about that. His mother had paid a lot of money out because of his stupidity. "I paid her back." He added quickly, afraid that Angel would get mad about his mother having to pay out a lot of money because of him.

Angel laughed. "I bet you did." He sighed. "Look, whatever it was I'm sure Mom handled it. There would be no reason for anyone to be angry about it now. So why don't you just tell me?"

Craig steadied his eyes on Angel. "I don't know." He repeated his lie. "If Mom had wanted anyone to know she would have said something."

"If we had been here she would have said something." Angel leaned back in his chair.

The silence fell over them again. The minutes seemed to drag by. After what seemed like an hour, but couldn't have been that long, Jerry, Bobby and Jack came walking up to them.

"What the hell happened to you?" Jerry looked at Angel as the man stood.

"I figured I'd sit this one out." He smiled. "The lawyer thing was starting to get to be too much." He looked down at Craig, then over to Bobby. "So, are we ready to go?"

"Yeah, we're ready." Bobby turned and walked towards the elevator.

Craig stood slowly as his brothers walked away. He'd been sure that Bobby would back out of signing the papers. He followed the men the same as he had earlier. They all grouped together, just as they always did. On the elevator he leaned against the wall, not looking at any of them, holding his arms across his aching stomach.

When they reached the street he found himself looking for the gray coat and black hat, but he didn't see the man. He felt a little bit of relief. His brothers were talking with each other and laughing. Apparently they were happy to get the whole lawyer thing over with. Jerry announced he had something he wanted to show them. Bobby made Jerry stop at a convenient store and he went in and bought a six pack of beer.

Craig's stomach was feeling nauseous and his left arm was aching from his scratching. He wished he'd taken some aspirin before they'd left. When they got into the car he'd found himself sandwiched between Jack and Angel again so he couldn't check out his arm. Jerry started talking about having a big project. Craig only half listened. He'd heard about Jerry's project before. He knew that for some reason it had been delayed, but he didn't know why. Twenty minutes later his brothers were climbing out of the car again. Craig hoped he could just sit in the car. Angel looked back at him. "You are coming with us. You aren't staying out here in this neighborhood." He glanced at Bobby and Jerry who were both walking away, with Jack right behind them.

Craig got out of the car and followed Angel who was quickly catching up to the other three. Craig let himself lag behind, but stayed close enough that when Angel looked back to check on him he was in sight. Jerry started talking about his plans for the building and how it was going to look. Bobby, Jack and Angel were nursing beers as they listened and cracked jokes about how rundown the warehouse was. Craig stood over next to a window, looking out at the street. He couldn't shake the feeling that his someone was watching them from somewhere.

His brothers' laughter drew his attention to them at the end of the warehouse. Jack was taking a piss and they were making jokes about it. He was too far away from them to hear exactly what was being said. Angel laughed a few moments later and said something about nipples. Craig really didn't want to know what that was about. He watched Bobby toss his beer bottle and he was sure he heard the man say something about going to get a drink. He watched the four of them walking back the way they had come. He took another look out the window and then followed.

Angel waited until they were all in the car before looking down at Craig. "We can't take the kid to a bar." He spoke up.

Bobby looked over at Jerry, and then he stared straight ahead. "He can drink soda." He spoke flatly.

"Bobby, we can't take him to a bar." Jerry shook his head.

"We ain't taking him to the fucking house." Bobby didn't move his gaze.

"You guys took me to bars when I was his age." Jack looked at Angel.

"We were young and stupid." Angel was sitting right behind Bobby. He leaned forward, closer to the back of Bobby's seat. "He looks like shit. He doesn't need to go to no damn bar."

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "We drop him off at the house and he's gonna take his fucking ass for a fucking walk!" His voice rose. "He's going with us." He finally looked back at Angel.

Angel shook his head. "Sofi is there. She can keep an eye on him." He suggested.

Bobby shook his head. "Drop it Angel." He spoke with a hard tone.

"Fine," Angel muttered and sat back in his seat.

So, it looked like Craig was going to a bar for the first time in his life. He couldn't help but think of how thrilled Evelyn Mercer would be with that.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to everyone who has been reading :)

Still don't own them, and still not making any money...

**_

* * *

_******

**_Chapter 8: Realization_**

When they got to the bar Angel made sure Craig was close to him as they walked in. His brothers went to the bar and ordered whiskey. Angel motioned for Craig to sit at a nearby table. "Get him his soda Bobby." He reminded.

Angel handed Craig a glass of cola a few moments later. Craig was directly behind his brothers, watching them make a toast to their mother. He nursed the cola through several of his brother's shots and finally emptied the glass. After what felt like a long while Jerry looked back at him. "Craig, you want a burger and fries?" He asked.

Craig was surprised Jerry had spoken to him. It was the first time all day that anyone besides Angel had said a word to him. He shook his head slowly. "No thanks." He muttered.

"Bring him a burger and fries Johnny; we'll be at a table." Bobby spoke loudly. All four men moved at the same time, "Bring us a bottle and bring a refill on the soda?" Bobby asked.

"Sure thing Bobby," Johnny nodded as the men stood and grabbed their drinks and coats.

Bobby led his brothers through the bar to another table in the back. Angel motioned for Craig to come with them. The boy stood, leaving his empty glass behind, and followed. He was glad they were moving; at least he would be able to watch the dart game being played in the back. Angel motioned to a chair and Craig sat in it.

Craig felt his stomach tighten up on him when Angel moved to sit next to him and Bobby tapped him on the shoulder. "You can sit over there next to your little sister." He pointed for Angel to move to the other side of the table. It was obvious all four were feeling the effects of the whiskey they'd been downing. Jerry had slowed down, because he was the only one worried about driving home. Bobby sat in the chair to Craig's right, Jerry took up the chair on the end, but slid it over to place himself directly on Craig's left.

Johnny walked over with a bottle and fresh glass of cola. He sat the cola in front of Craig and placed the bottle in the middle of the table.

"Man, I'm glad to have my brothers back home." Jerry smiled after Johnny walked away. "It's nice."

"Oh now Jerry, you aren't getting all sappy on us, are you?" Bobby laughed.

"No man, I mean it. It's nice to have you all home." Jerry watched as Bobby picked up the bottle and poured everyone a shot. "I love ya all man." His voice was quiet.

"We love you too Jerr'." Angel smiled. The four men raised their glasses and held them together in the air, the glass making a clink before they pulled them back and downed them.

"So, what are you all planning to do?" Jerry asked.

Bobby looked over at Jeremiah, "What do think we are planning to do? We are gonna find the fuckers that killed Mom and we are going to make them pay."

Jerry drew in a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh. "I was talking about work. Are you all gonna stick around for a while? What are you planning?"

Bobby shook his head. "First things first," he muttered.

The men talked for a while, talking about the trouble they'd gotten into when they were younger. Angel told them some stories about the Marines and Jack talked about his band. Bobby seemed genuinely interested in what they had been doing.

Jack looked at Bobby, "What have you been doing? You never did say." He asked the question as Johnny walked up to the table carrying a plate with a burger and fries. He set the plate in front of Craig then walked away.

"Damn, that looks good. I didn't realize I was hungry. Jerry reached over and snatched one of the fries from the plate. "Maybe I should have ordered some food myself."

"Well it's long past lunch time." Bobby glanced down at the boy. "Hell, it's past dinner time." He muttered.

Craig stared at his hamburger for a moment before picking up one of the French fries that lay on the plate next to it. He didn't want Bobby to start a scene in the bar over him not eating, and he could feel the man's eyes on him, he was sure. He glanced up at Bobby while he bit off half of the fry and started chewing. The man was looking at him. Well, maybe that was a good thing. He wasn't completely ignoring him now.

Bobby watched him for a few seconds more then picked up his glass and reached for the bottle.

The talking started again once all the shot glasses were filled. Craig ate slowly and listed as they talked and laughed. They told all the same stories Craig had heard a hundred times. One story seemed to lead to another, and then another. It seemed they had an endless supply of memories of burning cars, and beatin up ass holes who tried to screw them out of money. There were stories of time spent in the county jail. Never a long stretch, but they had all been caught doing something that got them a few months behind bars. Jerry was the only one that hadn't ended up doing jail time durring those years. He'd concentrated on work even when he was in high school, working evenings and weekends, and learning hs trade, so he hadn't gotten into as much trouble as his brothers. Bobby reminded Jerry of a few times he took the blame for him to keep him out of deep shit.

Johnny came to the table, "Hey I'm sorry to hear all that bad stuff about your Mom fellas." He spoke in a quiet voice, and it was hard to hear him over the voices of the crowd in the bar. "Feakin' gangs, worms," He groaned out the words. "Someone ought to step on them."

Bobby sat back in his chair and looked up at the bartender. "Which gang Johnny G.?" He asked.

Jerry leaned forward, "Oh shit, here we go. I knew it." He looked over at Bobby.

Johnny went on. "The neighborhood's really upset about this." He kept his gaze on Bobby.

Jerry shook his head, "Same ole Bobby. Yeah, Ma always said as bright as Bobby is he just does not like to think. Ain't no good gonna come from this just let the police do their damn job."

"Stop with the police man." Jack leaned forward on the table.

"Jerry half the cops in this town are crooked and you think the other half give two shits about another liquor store holdup?" Bobby spoke quickly.

Craig tried to block out the rest of the talk. He didn't like where the conversation was going. They were going to go after the gang that was supposed to have killed their mother. He felt his heart rate speed up. If they were really going to try to hunt down the shooters, they would probably start asking question.

More words were exchanged, but Craig concentrated on not listening. He didn't want to know what his brothers were planning.

Jerry stood. "Fine, but ya all don't be callin' me when you get shot up. This is Detroit in case you all forgot. Come on Craig, I'll take you home while these crazy asses get themselves killed."

"He's staying with me." Bobby waved Jerry away.

"He doesn't need to be in the middle of this shit Bobby." Jerry argued.

"He's a Mercer, he will deal with it. You want to see the scum that killed Ma pay for what they did to her, don't you kid?" Angel asked.

Craig swallowed hard.

"For what they did to her," Jerry shook his head. "Damn, you all think. They did it to him too. He was there. Do you really think you need to drag him out there with you to hunt these fuckers down?"

"He will deal with it." Bobby spoke calmly that time. "We know what they did to him."

"You don't act like you know. His jaw bone is bruised straight through. They hit him hard. He's emotional. He needs to be home, taking it easy." Jerry spoke quickly.

Bobby looked up at Jerry. "He's staying with me." He repeated. "We'll keep him safe, don't worry about it."

Jerry turned and walked out of the bar.

"Johnny, tell us what's going on man." Angel spoke as soon as Jeremiah was gone.

Craig's stomach tied up in knots but he continued to eat on his sandwich and fries slowly while Johnny spoke to Bobby Angel and Jack. Johnny was able to tell the brothers where the gang responsible hung out. Craig wanted to speak up and tell Bobby that it wasn't a gang shooting. He was sure of that. Whoever the men were, they hadn't been a part of any gang, they hadn't worn colors, and they hadn't acted like they were part of a gang, with the words that were being passed between them. He couldn't very well say anything at that moment. Bobby had mostly ignored him all day. The man was looking at him now, but he had yet to actually speak to him and give him a chance to tell him he was sorry for his words the night before. He was still acting pretty cold towards him, and Craig was starting to wonder if telling him he was sorry would be enough. If he said anything about the men who killed their mother Bobby would expect him to tell him more, and when he couldn't the man would just be more angry than he already was.

Once Johnny had told the brothers all that he could, Bobby paid the man what they owed him. He looked at Angel and Jack. "Well, let's go get the car and go check it out." He moved to stand, grabbing his coat and pulling it on.

"The kid ain't done eating." Jack spoke up.

"Let's go." Bobby didn't look down, he started walking to the door. Jack and Angel both stood, putting on their own coats as they did.

"Come on Craig, let's go." Angel spoke to the fourteen year old.

Craig stood and followed them out. He hadn't bothered taking his coat off because he hadn't realized they would be there for so long. Angel kept him close to him until they got outside, then the three men walked side by side and Craig remembered the image of all four of his brothers from earlier that day. They had that walk and that rhythm. The boy shivered slightly from the cold air. The sun was setting and the sky was cloudy, so it was pretty dark. He stayed closer to the pack of brothers than he had earlier, not wanting to be too far behind them in that neighborhood. It was their own neighborhood, and he knew most of the people they were passing. He knew of them by reputation mostly, very few of them were people he'd ever talked to. They were only a couple of blocks from the house. Craig was hoping that Bobby would let him stay home. He didn't want to go with them. He wanted to go to his room, curl up in a ball on his bed and think.

When they got to the house they didn't head for the door, they went straight to the car which was parked in the drive at the back of the house. Craig slowed slightly as they approached the car.

Angel turned and looked at him then looked at Bobby. "He can stay at the house, right?" He asked as he opened the car door.

"Get him in the fucking car." Bobby didn't look over as he got into the driver's seat.

Angel sighed. "Come on kid, get in." He pulled the back seat up so that Craig could get in. Jack climbed into the back right behind the boy, leaving the front seat to Angel.

* * *

Bobby drove slowly, not saying a word. Craig was right behind his oldest brother, so it wasn't as if he could look at him to try to see what he was thinking. The boy rested his head up on the side of the car and closed his eyes. He was tired. He thought that at that moment, if he were in his own bed, he would actually be able to sleep. The air in the car warmed up after close to five minutes, and Craig felt himself starting to drift off. He was almost into a peaceful sleep when Jack shook his arm. "Stay with us kid." Jack spoke quietly.

Craig reached up and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked out the window beside him, and then glanced up towards the front of the car, his gaze falling on the rearview mirror. Bobby was gazing back at him in the mirror. The man held his gaze for a moment, and then looked back at the street. He didn't look happy. Craig wasn't surprised that his brother would get pissed at him for dozing.

When they got to the abandoned building being used by the gang as a party house, Bobby, Angel and Jack got out of the car. Craig didn't move. He was waiting for someone to tell him whether he was supposed to stay in the car and wait or go with them. He was sure if he moved to get out he'd be told to stay.

Bobby didn't move away from the car door. He reached down, pulled the seat back and gave the boy a stare.

Craig got out of the car and walked back to the trunk where Angel and Jack were both waiting. Bobby opened the trunk looked at Angel. "You got a 'burner'?" He asked.

"I flew in." Angel reminded.

Bobby reached into the trunk and pulled out what looked like a folded cloth. "Here, be careful with my baby." He unfolded the cloth to reveal a gun.

Angel took the weapon. "Woe." He sounded impressed as he d held it in his hand. He cocked it after a second. "Ammo?"

"Yeah, its loaded little brother, be careful." Bobby warned as he grabbed a gas can out of the trunk and handed it to Jack. "You carry the gas can."

"We're doing the gas thing?" Jack asked as he took the can. He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.

"Yes, were doing the gas thing." Bobby spoke in a high pitched, nasally voice, mimicking Jack. "The only thing that scares people more than burning alive is being eaten alive." He leaned in and pulled out a sawed off shotgun and moved to close the trunk.

"Wait, what do I get?" Jack asked.

"Oh, you are coming with us? Here ya go sweetheart, poke 'em with that." Bobby handed Jack a crowbar and slammed the trunk down.

"Thank you." Jack spoke normally.

"You're welcome." Bobby answered.

Angel looked at Craig, then at Jack as Bobby turned to walk towards the building. He reached out and grabbed Craig's left wrist. "You grab hold of Jackie's belt and don't you dare let go, you got that?" He spoke quickly as he moved the boy's hand to the back of Jack's belt.

Craig tried not to wince at the pressure on his bandaged wrist and he prayed that Angel hadn't detected the bandage under his shirt and coat.

Craig held onto Jack's belt as they entered the building. He had never been with his older brothers when they pulled one of their 'stunts', as Evelyn Mercer had called them. He'd heard them talking about the fights and facing down thugs, and earning their reputations, hell, he'd listened to it most of the day in the bar, but he'd never seen it firsthand. He was suddenly feeling wide awake as his brothers started shouting out they were Five-0, and cursing at high school kids just a little older than him. He thought he seen a few faces from his own class from school, and ducked his head a bit, not wanting the wrath of this faked police raid to come down on him at school. He knew he'd have to return to school sometime and this was not the best thing for him when he did.

Bobby and Angel ran most of the kids off, but a few stragglers stuck around. They reached the end of what seemed like a long hall and found one man that was standing out from the rest. Bobby stuck the barrel of the shot gun in the man's chest and forced back into a chair. Craig didn't look up at the people Angel was herding over to a piece of shit couch, he was being pulled around by Jack and found he had to concentrate hard to hold on. Bobby handed Jack the shot gun and took the gas as Jack walked past him. He poured gas on the guy in the chair before handing it over to Angel who started pouring it on the occupants of the couch. One girl didn't sit; she was standing on top of a heating vent.

Jack moved to the back side of the chair, pulling Craig around with him. Craig felt alert now, not half asleep. His mind was trying to take it all in. He half noticed Angel yelling at the girl at the heating vent to get to the couch and then Angel poured gas on her.

He was also trying to listen go Bobby yelling at the guy in the chair, telling him he had better tell him what he wanted to know, and shoving a rag in his mouth. "This ain't the talking part this is the listening part. My brother here is gonna ask you some questions." There were more words, but Craig didn't seem to be able to take it all in; Angel asked the man questions about the shooting, wanting to know who in his gang the shooters were.

"Okay, now is the talking part, and you'd better tell us what the fuck we want to know." Bobby warned the man and pulled the gag out.

The man talked about the whole thing being a gang shooting was bogus. Craig had already known that. Bobby gave him a sideways glance, then looked back down at the guy who was saying the witness claiming to be playing basket ball that night was lying, that there was no one on the courts.

"How would you know that if you weren't there?" Bobby asked.

"'Cause, bitch, the cops said those people were shot at eleven o'clock." The guy in the chair spoke with a hard tone.

Craig thought about the time. Twelve minutes past eleven.

"So?" Bobby was nearly yelling.

"So they turn the court lights out at ten." The guy yelled back at Bobby.

Bobby pulled his left arm up and looked at his watch. "Let's go." He looked at Angel, and reached down to grab the jacket of the man in the chair, pulling him up to his feet.

"You little bastards need to stay in school!" Bobby called out to the audience on the couch as he pushed the guy past them and down the hall.

Angel gave their prisoner a hard hit. "That's for calling my brother a bitch."

Jack took a glance back at the kids who were watching them leave. "I hope you all have a very nice evening." He spoke cheerfully and continued walking. Craig still held onto Jacks belt, so he was just letting himself being pulled along.

The car ride took some time. Bobby was purposely driving slow, and taking streets he didn't need to take. He had the gang leader in the front seat with him. Angel was sitting right behind the man, his gun cocked and ready to fire, just in the man's view. Jack was sitting in the middle, purposely it seemed, to keep Craig on the end of the seat, as far away from any trouble that might come up. Thankfully nothing worth remembering happened on the ride. Bobby parked the car on the street next to the same store where Evelyn had been shot. Craig couldn't help but feel a cold chill run through his body as his brothers got out of the car, pulling the punk towards the courts. Bobby said something about the time being five minutes to ten. He told the guy that if the lights didn't go out at ten his ass was dead.

Craig didn't get out of the car and no one yelled at him to follow them. He was thankful. He didn't want to go with them. He watched as they walked across the street to stand in front of the fence surrounding the courts, just opposite of the store.

The boy tried not to look at the building next to him, but it was impossible not to look. He soon found himself staring at the brick wall, and then his gaze moved to the windows. He remembered the night his mother had insisted on stopping. She had to look at the turkeys. She couldn't wait until the next day. He slowly moved across the seat of the car to the passenger side. The front seat was still leaning up from Angel and Jack getting out of the car. He reached up and pulled on the door handle, opening the door. He got out and walked slowly up the sidewalk to the front door. He stepped up onto the stairs in front of the door and looked in. The store looked normal inside. Nothing was out of place. The blood had been cleaned up from what he could see. The lights were out, but there were dim lights in the back of the store illuminating enough that the boy could see. He could see the candy tubs that held the candy Darnell had tried to steal that night. He could see the turkeys in their neat little display in the back, right in front of the meat counter that led to the back of the store, to the restroom, where he had gone as soon as his mother had decided to stop scaring the thieving out of Darnell. He could see the spot on the floor in the back where his mother had fallen. The air around him suddenly felt thin. It was as if he couldn't get enough air in his lungs.

He could hear the faint sound of Bobby's voice saying it was two minutes after ten, and they were gonna pop the mother fucker with them. The punk in Angel's grasp was shouting at them to wait, the lights would go out. But it all sounded faint, like someone had a television turned on with the volume very low. Then the sound of the lights going out filtered into his brain as faint clicks in the background. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the interior of the store. His mind was playing that night back, and he couldn't turn away from it. His ears were starting to ring loudly, making it harder to hear.

"You're fucking lucky." Bobby spoke loudly.

Now the punk was turning cocky, yelling things at Bobby. Craig could barely hear the voices. Angel's voice was muffled, but whatever was going on behind the boy seemed unimportant.

Then there was the sound of footsteps heading back up the street, towards the car. One set seemed to take off at a run, but the other three were walking.

"He's not in the car." Jack spoke loud.

"Fuck!" Bobby yelled. "Five fucking minutes," He yelled.

"Calm down Bobby. Look." Jack's voice sounded more distant than before.

There was a long quiet, and Craig's mind raced through the moments after his mother was shot. The man forcing him behind the meat counter with that gun in his face, the sound of his voice and his laugh seemed to echo in his mind. Craig felt hands ease down on his shoulders several moments later, but didn't look up at who it was. It had to be Angel, or maybe Jack since Bobby was still pissed at him, he was sure of that. He couldn't move. He realized he was trying hard too breath. It felt as if he were suffocating.

Whoever had their hands on his shoulders didn't try to move him. There was a long period of silence.

"Slow breaths." Bobby's voice whispered in his ear. "Slow down." He sounded as if he were talking to a small child, or a sick animal.

Craig tried to listen to the instructions, tried to follow them.

One of the hands eased around and wiped at tears on the boy's face. "Let's get you home. I think you've had a pretty full day."

Before Bobby could move him his gaze moved up to the video camera in the far corner of the store. "Camera," he muttered more to himself than Bobby. He barely comprehended Bobby was there. His mind screamed at him that the camera would have caught it all. The men walking in, the shooting, the way the guy had hit him, and spoke to him, and laughed at him and forced him behind the meat counter. It was all on tape somewhere.

Bobby looked confused at first. He leaned forward, looking through the glass door, following Craig's gaze. He sighed. "Good boy." He spoke gently, and then let his arm pull Craig closer to him. "If you won't tell me what the fuck went on here that night, I can see for myself." He muttered; his words lost on the boy, who still seemed to be in a daze.

Bobby eased him down the steps and adjusted his hold on him. Craig felt crowded then and realized that Jack and Angel had been right there with Bobby.

They walked him back to the car. Bobby put Craig in the back seat with Jack. Angel rode in the passenger seat again.

It seemed they were home within seconds, but Craig knew it was a five minute drive. He barely remembered Bobby pulling him out of the car. Sofi opened the door of the front porch for them when they walked up to it.

Bobby pulled Craig's coat off of him. "You go get ready for bed." He instructed, and Craig walked into the house and started up th stairs. He heard Bobby and Jack talking. Bobby was telling the younger Mercer that it was a questionable kill. Craig couldn't help but think that it would have been a questionable kill no matter what. It was Evelyn Mercer for God's sake. He went on up the steps to his room, and closed his door quietly. He heard Sofi and Angel coming up the stairs only a moment later. He started undressing, careful of his arm. He found a clean long sleeve jersey that was too big for him and sweatpants to put on. He put his dirty clothes in the basket in the corner. He knew he needed to get a shower, but he didn't seem to have the energy to do that much. He went to the restroom and took a long piss. He brushed his teeth quickly. He wasn't really thinking about any of the tasks he was doing. It was as if he were on auto pilot.

When the boy opened the door of the restroom he found Bobby standing there with his arms crossed at his chest. Bobby pointed to Evelyn's room. "Go get into Mom's bed." He spoke calmly, but he definately wasn't asking the boy.

Craig was confused.

"You were up most of the night last night. Tonight you are going to sleep. Now get your ass in there." Bobby still sounded calm.

Craig walked into his mother's room. Bobby followed him, turning on the light as he walked in. "Next to the wall." He stepped past the boy and pulled the blankets back and waited.

Craig looked up at his oldest brother. "Bobby." His voice barely came out.

The man stared at him, no emotion on his face.

"I'm sorry." He muttered.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't." He warned.

"But…"Craig felt crushed.

"You get your ass into this bed." Bobby pointed to the bed.

Craig felt as if someone had punched him dead center in his stomach and forced all of the air out of him. Bobby wasn't going to let him tell him how sorry he was. He'd made his day a living hell, and he still wasn't going to let him tell him he didn't mean what he'd to hm the night before.

Craig got into the bed, resolved to the fact that his brother was never going to forgive him. He sat there looking at Bobby, hoping the man would look at him, and tell him that he didn't hate him.

Bobby pulled the blankets up over the boy. "I need to go get my shower. I'll be back in ten minutes. You'd best be asleep when I get back."

Craig kept his gaze on Bobby but didn't speak.

"I'm not telling you again, lie down, close your eyes and go to sleep. You are going to sleep; you aren't going to stay up all night." Bobby walked out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

I thought I'd put another chapter up tonight, I don't know that I'll get one up tomorrow.

Again, thanks to all for reading, and let me know what you think, I appreciate advice if you have it to give :)

* * *

**_Chapter 9: Pay Attention_**

Craig lay down in the bed and felt his body relax. When he was little he would go into Evelyn's room and curl up next to her in the bed. To be honest, in the past year there were a few times that he'd reverted back to sneaking into his mother's room and crawling into the bed with her. He rolled onto his right side, putting his back to the door. He pulled the pillow up to his face, breathing in the faint hint of aroma of his mother's perfume. He closed his eyes and let his senses drink in her scent. His heart started aching, but he was tired, and he felt safe. He fell asleep after only a few minutes. He didn't feel Bobby get into the bed. He didn't know when the house fell dark and silent. He actually slept better than he had since Sunday night for the first three hours or so. Then his mind started the old nightmares. The yelling, the screaming, the blood, all flooding in so vivid he could smell and feel it all. The memory of his father aiming that gun at his head melded together with the image of the masked gunman in the store holding a gun in his face. The sounds of his real mother screaming and begging mixed in with Evelyn's voice. The smell of the blood overwhelmed him. Then the sharp pain in his back, and the fist hammering his jaw all wove together.

He could feel himself screaming, and he knew he was crying, but he didn't care. He felt hands grabbing him, and he fought them with all the energy he could pull out of himself, but it wasn't much. Most of his body felt shaky and weak. He didn't feel as if he could move. It was as if the blood was turning the floor to mud and he was sinking in it, and that made him fight even more.

"Craig!" He barely heard the voice. He wasn't sure who it was, or where the person was.

"Damn it Angel, help me!" He recognized Bobby's voice that time, and it sounded closer than before.

"Jack, go turn on the shower," Bobby yelled.

Craig felt as if his body was being squeezed in two at that moment and he fought and screamed louder than before, but he couldn't move. Then he felt cold, and wet and confused. The dream was fading and his vision was turning grey. He felt as if he were floating in a cold, wet fog.

"Open your fucking eyes! Open them now!" Bobby was yelling. "Come on Craig, open your eyes!"

Craig felt a hard stinging sensation on his left cheek, and it didn't stop, in fact, it got more intense. His eyes opened in time to see Bobby's hand slapping him one last time. He tried to pull away, but wasn't sure where he was. He swung his body away from the slapping hand, toward the left, and hit something hard. He screamed out when he realized whatever stopped him hurt when he hit it, and the hand that had been slapping him was attached to an arm that was now wrapped around him pinning his arms to his side.

"Stop fighting!" Bobby yelled and it was right in his ear. Craig froze instantly as reality started to sink in. He wasn't standing, he was on his knees, on a hard surface that didn't feel like a floor, and Bobby was behind him, holding him in place. He was cold and wet, and at first his mind was reasoning that he was in the driveway and it was raining, but then it dawned on him that it was winter, and it should have been snowing. He started shivering and he realized he felt cold enough for it to be snowing.

"Is he awake?" Bobby asked the question loud and the words seemed to burn into his right ear.

"His eyes are open." Jack's answer seemed to draw him further out of the grey fog. His shivering intensified. He recognized the shower curtain, and realized he was in the bathtub. His brain was trying to reason as to how he had ended up there.

"He's awake." Angel leaned in and looked at the boy. "You are awake, right kid?" He spoke calmly to the boy.

Craig looked at Angel. He nodded his head slowly.

"You'd best be using the voice the good lord gave you boy or I'm gonna bust your ass." Angel smiled but it looked threatening. "Are you awake?"

Craig tried to choke back the tears that were falling. "Yeah," he managed to squeak the word out.

"Good." Bobby started the process of standing, pulling the boy to his feet as he did. "Get his pants off of him. Jack, go get him some dry clothes. Get me some while you're at it."

Craig tried to pull away from Angel as the man started peeling his wet sweat pants and underwear down his legs.

"Child, don't you fucking pull away from me. Bobby ain't the only one that can knock the shit out of you." Angel threatened. He looked at Craig, then his gaze met Bobby's own concerned expression. He shook his head and looked back to Craig. "Just calm down, you need to get yourself cleaned off." His tone was calmer that time as he pulled the sweat pants down.

Bobby kept his arms around the boy and waited until Angel had the pants off the boy and in the sink. "Jesus, Angel run some warm water here. We're both freezing our balls off." He eased up on his hold on the boy. Angel turned the hot water spicket a few times and the water started running warmer. "Let's get this shirt off." He helped Angel peel the shirt off of the boy and over his head.

"What the fuck is this?" Bobby gripped the boy's left arm just above the soaked bandage and carefully pulled it off of his arm, revealing the deep mark from the night before. "I thought you weren't doing this shit." Bobby sounded pissed.

Craig still shivered, though the water was good and warm now.

Jack returned with dry clothes for both Bobby and Craig. "Jesus." He muttered when he looked at the arm. "Yelling at him isn't gonna help." He looked at Bobby, "I could hear you from my room."

"Shut up Jack." Bobby let go of the boy. "Give him a wash rag and let him clean the piss off of himself." He stepped out onto the floor and started stripping down. "Get us some towels."

Moments later Angel was placing a wash rag in the boy's hands. "Start washing." He pulled the shower curtain so the boy had some privacy.

Craig picked up the soap and did what Angel told him. He washed at his face first, trying to stop the tears from falling. It didn't work, so he moved on to the rest of his body. He felt as if he were in a tunnel, and was fighting to hold his concentration long enough to wash. When he was finished he wasn't sure what to do. He stood there holding the wash rag under the water, afraid to move, or turn the water off.

"Wash your hair." Angel called from the other side of the curtain.

Without hesitating, the boy put the wash rag on the shelf that hung from the shower head and picked up the shampoo. He washed his hair quickly, and then stood there wondering what to do next. He didn't understand why he felt so confused.

"Turn off the fucking water." Bobby yelled through the curtain.

Craig turned off the water and the curtain opened up. Bobby stood there wearing dry sweat pants and a T-shirt, and was holding a towel. He started drying the boy off while he still stood in the tub. He wrapped the towel around Craig's shoulders and put one arm around his waist, lifting him over the tub's side. Craig flinched slightly when Bobby pushed a pair of long johns at him. "You don't have any clean clothes left. Put these on." He ordered.

Craig put on the long johns with shaky movement. He realized they were too big to be his, and wondered which of his brothers had sacrificed a pair of their long johns for him. Bobby handed him an over sized black T-shirt, obviously Jack's from the lettering. As soon as the shirt was on Bobby grabbed hold of him and lifted him onto the counter so that he was sitting. Jack grabbed the wet clothes out of the sink and off of the floor, muttering something about doing laundry at three o'clock in the morning being bullshit before walking out the door.

Angel stepped up on one side of him while Bobby started going through the cabinet, pulling out iodine, alcohol, ointment, gauze and medical tape, and setting them down on the counter next to the boy. He took a hold of Craig's left hand and turned the arm so that the deep scratch was turned to where he could see it. He didn't say a word as he opened the iodine and picked up a gauze pad. "This is infected." Bobby looked up at Angel. "The iodine is going to burn like hell." He shifted his gaze to Craig but didn't speak to the boy.

Craig was thankful for the moment that Bobby seemed to be back to giving him the silent treatment. His breath was still hitching from the left over crying that he couldn't seem to stem.

Bobby started applying the iodine to the boy's arm, careful not to get it in the injury, only around the edges. Craig's muscles tightened at the burning sensation, but he didn't try to pull away. He didn't watch what Bobby was doing, but he could tell when the man had switched to the alcohol, carefully cleaning out the tell-tale signs of the infection that had been setting in.

"How does it look?" Angel asked.

"It isn't anything that will need a doctor if that's what you're asking." Bobby looked up at Angel. "Do me a favor, get the ointment on that." He turned and started opening a roll of gauze netting.

Angel took over and put antibacterial ointment on the wound. "You figure he did this last night?" He asked as he finished.

"That would have been the only chance he had to do it." Bobby pressed gauze pads on the area where the first several layers of skin had been scratched away. He used the netting to wrap around the boy's wrist, holding the pads in place. He made the wrapping tight, but not too tight. He used the tape to secure it all in place. He drew in a deep breath and started putting the supplies back in the medicine cabinet.

Angel looked at Bobby. "You know why he did it, right?" He asked calmly.

"No, Angel, why don't you explain it to me?" Bobby spoke sarcastically.

"Bobby, you have to ease up on him." Angel spoke carefully.

"No, I don't." Bobby turned directly to Angel.

"Yes, you do. He's losing it, can't you see that?" Angel asked.

"He was already losing it. I'm not handling him with kid gloves Angel. That's not gonna fix anything. You think Mom would have babied him and let him say and do whatever the fuck he wanted to just cause it might upset him if she corrected him? No. She would have told him that she loves him, and wants to help, but she wouldn't put up with him wondering off at will or saying mean things. I'm not gonna ease up on him. He doesn't feel like our baby brother, I'll change that. By the time I'm done with him he's gonna feel like he has four spare pairs of legs 'cause from this moment on he don't take a piss without one of us there to watch. He's gonna face whatever he's scared to death of. He's gonna face it and he's gonna tell us about it and he's gonna be okay. It's our job to teach him how to deal with the shit that has happened." Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slow before going on. When he spoke this time he kept his voice a bit calmer, "That's what big brothers do Angel. Don't you think I've done this before? Remember when you first came here? Remember when Jack first came here? I should have done this when Craig first came here but Mom was worried I'd scare him because he was so little. Well he's not so little now, and there's more shit to deal with, but we're gonna deal with it my way. He may hate me by the time I'm done; I don't see where that's any different than this very moment, when he doesn't consider us his brothers."

"He didn't mean that!" Angel cried out.

"He said it!" Bobby's tone was forceful. He turned and looked at the boy, putting himself directly in front of him. "He may have felt bad afterwards, but he meant it when he said it, I seen it in his eyes." He leaned over, putting his face directly in front of the boy's. "Didn't you?"

Craig shook his head slowly. "No I didn't." He muttered reaching up to wipe the tears away from his cheeks.

Bobby slapped his hands back. "Why don't you just let yourself cry for a fucking change?" He yelled. "Leave the tears where they are." He shook his head. "I saw the look in your eyes when you said the words. You meant it. You said I wasn't your real brother."

Craig felt more tears welling out. "I didn't mean it." He spoke weakly. "I'm sorry."

"See, that's why I'm being so hard on you now. You won't be honest with us. You did mean it." Bobby stood up. "And until you can explain why you meant it, and what it's gonna take to fix it, you are on restriction. You aren't grounded, you are on restriction. You don't walk from one room to another without one of us with you. If we leave a room you go with, no matter what. If you are alone with one of us and we need to take a shit; you are going to sit on the edge of that tub and wait. If you have to take a shit; you'll have one of us standing over you. You will eat, drink and sleep in the company of at least one of us at all times."

Craig swallowed hard.

Bobby shook his head. "What do you think a real brother is Craig? Huh?"

Craig turned to look away from Bobby's stare, but the man grabbed his jaw and pulled his face back to look at him. "Don't look away from me when I'm talking to you. Answer my question. What do you think a real brother is?"

Craig stared at Bobby, not sure how to answer. What was a brother? He only knew the way his brothers had been with him.

"Have I ever let anyone hurt you? Have I ever raised my hand to you in a way that hurt you?" Bobby asked.

Craig knew what Bobby meant. He'd been beaten by his father when he was little. That was different than the small smacks that Bobby gave him from time to time. "No." He muttered.

"Have any of us ever hurt you like that?" Angel spoke up.

"No." Craig felt more tears falling.

"Do you think we ever would?" Bobby asked.

Craig swallowed hard and thought about the question for a moment, "No." He finally answered.

"Then why won't you talk to us? Why do you try to hide from what's eating away at you, instead of coming to us for help?" Jack spoke from the doorway. "You do shit to try to get attention, and then when you have it, you try to push it away. Why do you do that?"

Bobby looked over at Jack. "You think he's trying to get attention?" He looked surprised. He still had his hold on the boy's jaw.

"Well, yeah. You don't think he knew you'd be pissed when he came back from his after hours walk?" Jack laughed. "I think he wants the attention, but he's afraid to just tell any of us that. I mean, it's not like we ever paid much attention to him when he was little. So, once he has our attention, he's afraid of it, and he says things off the top of his head that he doesn't mean."

Bobby stared at Jack. "I think we paid more attention to him than he thinks." The man commented.

"Yeah, man, I know we did." Angel laughed. "Remember the first time he walked to school alone?"

Bobby released his hold on the boy. "Yeah, I remember. Jack was sick and couldn't walk with him; Craig was scared to death to walk by his self."

Angel laughed, "Yeah, but he did a damn good job of hiding it once he was out on the street, didn't he?" He looked at the boy.

Bobby sighed. "Do you remember that Craig? You were like, nine years old."

Craig did remember. He had never walked alone before, and his mother had promised him he would be okay. He nodded his head slowly. "Yeah," He muttered.

"Did you ever know that we followed you that morning?" Bobby asked.

Craig looked up at Bobby. "What?"

"We followed you." Angel laughed. "We stayed about half a block behind you the whole way to the school. Bobby, Jerry, and me," He informed. "And after school, we followed you home."

Craig didn't comment. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.

"You see, kid, the whole point is we pay more attention to you than you think." Bobby spoke the words quietly. "We watch your ass when you don't know it. We always have."

Craig swallowed hard at the rock that was forming in his gut, and he wasn't even sure why it was there again.

All were quiet for a long moment.

"Come on, you need to get your ass back into bed." Bobby took a hold of the boy's arm and pulled him down off of the counter.

"I don't want to sleep anymore." Craig spoke before he could stop himself.

"Too bad, we do." Bobby pulled the boy past Jack who moved out of the doorway to give them enough room. He guided the boy back to Evelyn's room and pushed him into the bed. "Lay down." He ordered.

"Bobby, please? I can't sleep." Craig didn't try to struggle with the man, but he didn't lie down.

"Kid, you ain't staying up while the rest of us sleep. That happened last night and look at the result." Bobby made a motion to the boy's arm. "Now lay the fuck down."

Craig lay back in the bed, sliding his legs under the blankets as he did.

Bobby turned back to the doorway where Angel and Jack were standing, watching them. "He's gonna be fine, you can both go back to bed now."

"You really think he's gonna sleep?" Jack asked.

"He'd better or I'm gonna bust his ass." Bobby spoke casually. "Besides, he's never had a nightmare twice in one night."

Jack nodded his head and turned away.

"Yell if you need us." Angel followed Jack's lead and headed to his own room.

Bobby flipped the light switch on the wall and got into bed. Craig stared up ward into the dark. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out some features of the room.

"If you don't close your eyes and go to sleep I'm gonna roll you over and beat your ass." Bobby's voice was quiet, but the threat was sincere, Craig knew.

He closed his eyes and hoped Bobby would go to sleep very soon. After a few moments he felt Bobby move closer and drop an arm over him. "You aren't gonna dream anymore." He whispered.

Craig didn't comment on his brother's statement. He just waited. Bobby had to go back to sleep eventually. He could wait him out. He felt sleep trying to creep into his brain after some time, and he tried to fight it. He tried to roll over onto his side to put his back to Bobby, but the man held him in place with his arm.

"Go to sleep Craig." Bobby mumbled from his pillow.

He lost his battle with sleep after what seemed only a few minutes. He fell asleep with Bobby's arm laying over him. Just as his mind started to slide into a calm, dark slumber he felt Bobby's arm move away. He barely realized that he rolled over towards Bobby, resting his head on the man's shoulder, just before all awareness left him. He fell into a deep, hard sleep. A good sleep, with no nightmares waiting for him.


	10. Chapter 10

I didn't think I'd get to post this one today, but here it is :)

Thanks to all for the encouraging words and please don't hold back if you have any suggestions! I welcome them and do take them to heart!

Dicslaimer: I do not own Four Brothers and I do not make any money from this story.

* * *

**Chapter 10: What Really Happened?**

"Come on; get your ass out of the bed." Bobby sounded irritated. "I ain't telling you again."

Craig rolled over, putting his back to the nuisance that was trying to pull him out of his dark, peaceful, long needed sleep. "I'm not going to school today." He muttered.

"No, but you sure as hell are getting out of the bed, putting some clothes on and coming down stairs for breakfast. It's eight o'clock." Bobby's voice rose slightly.

Hands grabbed Craig's arms and he was dragged out from under the blankets. His confused mind struggled to comprehend the movement. It took a second for him to realize he was being stood on the cold wood floor directly next to the bed.

"Get your clothes on." Bobby ordered.

Craig turned and started to crawl back into the bed.

"Oh no, you are not pulling this with me." Bobby grabbed him from behind and pulled him back off the bed. "For someone who didn't want to go to sleep you are sure anxious to stay asleep now. You get your clothes on, right now."

"Well for someone who wanted me to go to sleep you sure are anxious for me to wake up." Craig made a face. "I'm tired." He cried out.

"I already know that. I've known that for three fucking days." Bobby commented. "But you are not going to sleep all day and be up all night. Now get your clothes on."

Craig's mind was still half asleep, and he felt confused. "Where's Mom? She'll let me sleep."

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "Mom's not home right now. Put your clothes on." He sounded less irritated.

Craig reached up and rubbed at the sleep that was still trying to take over his eyes. "I don't want to." He turned to get back into the bed again.

Bobby grabbed him again and pulled him across the room to stand in front of the dresser. He started pulling the over sized t-shirt off the boy without saying a word. He proceeded to dress him in jeans, long john shirt and blue flannel shirt. The whole time Craig was slowly coming to his senses.

By the time Craig was dressed he was actually awake. He realized what he had said and how Bobby had dressed him. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Would you stop saying that every time you open your mouth?" He didn't sound angry.

Craig looked up at his brother.

Bobby shook his head. "New rule, you aren't allowed to say you're sorry. I don't care what you are referring to at the time; you are not allowed to use those words." He walked towards the door. "Come on." He called out.

Craig followed Bobby down the stairs. Jack and Angel were already downstairs, the table was set and there was a plate of pancakes sitting in the center. Angel was setting a bottle of syrup on the table and Jack was pouring milk into the glasses. Bobby grabbed the boy's arm and pushed him down into the chair he had assigned to him for Thanksgving dinner. "Right there," He muttered.

Bobby put one pancake on the boy's plate then filled his own with three of them and handed Angel the plate. "I ain't fixing it for you, you can do that yourself." He smeared butter on his pancakes and then slid it over to Craig.

Craig put the butter on his pancake and then syrup. The syrup was steaming. He ate his pancake without really thinking about it. He actually felt hungry for the first time in a while and the pancake tasted good. He was barely finished with the first one when Bobby dropped another one his plate. "You are eating at least two of them." The man informed. "You can have more than that if you want, but at least two."

Craig didn't argue, he was hungry enough for two. He'd always liked pancakes. It was probably his favorite breakfast.

"Did you call Jerry?" Bobby asked no one in particular.

"Yeah, he's gonna meet us there." Jack answered.

"Good." Bobby glanced at the boy to make sure he was eating. "What time does the place open?"

"Nine o'clock on the weekends." Jack looked up at Bobby.

Craig wanted to ask what his brothers were talking about, but wasn't sure if he wanted to know. After the events of the night before, he was certain that where ever they were going to go to meet Jerry it wasn't going to be good.

Craig had barely finished his second pancake when Bobby stood. "Are you full?" He looked at the boy.

Craig nodded his head.

Bobby looked at him for along moment, as if he were expecting something more.

"Yes, I'm full." Craig muttered.

Bobby nodded his head. "Come on, you can't go out with no shoes on your feet." He motioned for the boy to follow him to the living room.

Craig obediently stood and followed his brother to the other room. He found a pair of socks and shoes resting on one of the chairs. Bobby sat on the couch and used the remote to turn on the TV. Craig picked up his shoes and sat in the chair. He pulled on his socks and shoes quickly. He had to use the rest room, and was awake enough now that he was remembering more from what had happened in the middle of the night. He glanced at the TV and then over to Bobby who was flipping through the channels slowly.

"Bobby?" Craig spoke quietly.

Bobby looked at him.

"I have to go to the restroom." The boy spoke cautiously.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders as he turned off the TV and stood. "Well come on."

Craig did what he needed to do with Bobby standing at the door. He flushed the toilet, washed his hands and looked over at Bobby. "Can I brush my teeth?" He asked.

"You can brush your teeth; comb your hair, put on your makeup, whatever you want to do. You have at it." Bobby laughed.

Craig brushed his teeth and then washed his face quickly to try to wake up the rest of the way. He jaw was extremely sore for some reason. He rubbed at it a little when he used the hand towel to dry off his face.

"Does that hurt?" Bobby asked.

Craig looked over at Bobby. "Some." He muttered.

"It looks fine." Bobby sighed.

"It is." Craig picked up the comb and started combing his hair.

"Then why did you just rub at it?" Bobby walked up behind him. "I smacked that side of your face trying to wake you up. Did I hurt you?" He sounded worried.

Craig looked at Bobby in the mirror. "No. It's fine." The first several minutes after he woke up in the bath tub were a blur in his mind.

Bobby took a hold of Craig's arms and turned him around to face him. He reached up and rubbed his hand over the spot of his jaw that was aching. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you; I was just trying to wake you up." He spoke quietly.

Craig felt awkward at that moment. Bobby actually sounded sorry. "I'm fine Bobby. The doctor said it would be sore for a while." He muttered.

"The guy hit you pretty damn hard, huh?" Bobby asked.

Craig swallowed hard and looked away from his brother.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me shit about what happened. I'm not gonna ask you shit about it." Bobby didn't sound angry, for a change. "Are you done in here?"

Craig nodded his head.

"Good, let's get downstairs and see if your brothers are ready." Bobby pulled the door open and walked out of the restroom.

Craig followed Bobby down the stairs and to the kitchen where Angel and Jack were drying the last of the breakfast dishes and putting them away.

"You ready?" Bobby looked at his watch. "It's ten minutes to nine." He announced.

"Yeah, we're ready." Angel finished drying one last plate and handed it to Jack who put it in the cupboard. "Are you taking Craig?" He asked while he tossed the towel onto the counter.

"We already talked about this. He goes where we go." Bobby glanced down at the boy.

"You really think it's a good idea." Jack shook his head.

"Hell, I think it's just what he needs." Bobby grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him back into the foyer and handed him his coat.

Craig put on his coat slowly, watching his brothers grabbing their own coats. "Where are we going?" He asked quietly.

"We're gonna go find out about this witness that was supposed to have seen who did the shooting." Angel answered, but he sounded as if he were choosing his words carefully.

"Don't 'sugar coat' it for him." Bobby pulled the door open and looked at Craig. "We're going back to the store, asking questions, and asking to see the video from that night." He announced.

Craig's stomach dropped to his knees. The look on his face must have given away how he suddenly felt.

"You can't tell me what I need to know. That's cool. But I need to find out. It's gonna be okay. Your brothers are gonna be there with you, and you don't have to watch anything." Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him through the front porch then outside. He walked him to the car and opened the driver's door. "Get in."

Craig climbed into the back of the car and waited while his brothers climbed in. Angel climbed into the back of the car this time, letting Jack ride up front with Bobby.

As the car grew closer to the store Craig could feel his breakfast churning around in his stomach. He didn't want to go to the store; he didn't want to be inside the same building that his mother had died in. He didn't want his brothers to look at the video and see just how scared he had been, how he hadn't done anything to help their mother in her final moments.

Angel reached over from his position behind Jack and gave the boy a gentle pat on the leg. "Don't worry little brother; you heard what Bobby said, you don't have to watch."

Craig didn't comment, he just leaned against the side of the car and looked out the window, his arms wrapping around his stomach and holding hard. He thought that maybe when they got to the store he could make a break for it when they all got out of the car, but then, he knew his brothers could all run pretty fast so all that would accomplish was making Bobby mad again, and the man was just now getting over being mad at him. At least he thought he was getting over it. He was talking to him again, finally, and what he was saying didn't sound angry.

He wasn't ready for it when the car pulled up to the curb along the side of the store. He didn't move when Bobby, Jack and Angel climbed out of the car. Bobby stood at the open door for a few moments, as if waiting to see if the boy would move to push the seat up on his own. When it became obvious to the man that the boy wasn't going to climb out he leaned over, pulled the seat up and motioned for him to get out of the car.

Craig looked at Bobby. "Can't I wait in the car?" He asked quietly.

Bobby didn't answer the question; he simply reached in, grabbed Craig's arm and carefully pulled him out of the car. He pushed the seat back and shut the door a little harder than he needed to.

Craig didn't move, he wasn't sure if he could move. Jack walked up to the glass door and looked inside while Bobby took a hold of Craig's arm and pulled him up to the side of the car, leaning back against the hood. He didn't let go of Craig's arm and the boy wondered if the man had read his mind about running off to get away from this.

Angel leaned against the car on Craig's other side, pretty much trapping him, just as Jack returned from the door, "No one is in yet." He announced.

Craig stared down at the pavement beneath his feet. The fear was building up inside of him. If Bobby had let go of him at that moment he was sure he would bolt without really caring how angry Bobby got about it. His body was starting to shiver but it wasn't from the cold. Bobby let go of his arm long enough to slide his arm across his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him back against the car and directly next to him. "What the hell are you so scared of kid?" He asked quietly. "You don't have to watch anything you don't want to." He sounded the same as he had the night before when they were standing in front of that same store.

Craig felt his throat tighten up on him as his eyes started to sting.

Angel leaned over and put his arm at the boy's back. "You just put your back to the monitor, and it will be fine." He took Bobby's lead.

Craig couldn't stop his body from shivering. "I don't want to go in there." He muttered the words before he realized he was even thinking them.

"You can't hide from it Craig." Bobby gave him a gentle squeeze. "Nothing is going to happen. We are going to be right there with you."

Jerry's car pulled up behind Bobby's at that moment. He got out and walked up to his brothers. Craig caught the sight of the owner of the store walking up the street towards them. He knew the man; he had known him for a couple of years. He felt his chest starting to ache, and his ears started to ring. He didn't really hear much of what his brothers were saying. He could hear Angel telling Jerry that they had found out last night that the shooting wasn't random, that the witness was lying. He heard bits and pieces of the conversation, but his eyes were glued to the grocery store owner closing in on the steps. Jack took notice of the man about that time, and then Bobby's attention was drawn to him. They moved away from the car, Bobby moving his hold to Craig's hand, pulling him along like a small child. Craig didn't look at the door or the man. He heard Jack introducing himself and his brothers as Evelyn Mercer's sons. The man's gaze fell on Craig. "She was a good woman, I liked her very much." He sighed. "Craig?"

Craig looked up at him but didn't speak.

"Let's come inside." The older gentleman spoke softly and turned to unlock the door.

Craig felt his body pulling away from Bobby, but the man pulled his arm up to grip his upper arm. Craig felt another hand grip his other arm and looked over to see Jerry taking hold of him.

They walked into the store. Bobby seen that Jerry had a hold of the younger boy and let go of him while he explained calmly to the store owner that they were trying to find out what had happened that night in that store.

Ahmed was more than happy to put the video tape from that night into the VCR so that the men could watch the tape. He warned them before starting the tape that it wasn't pretty, and he looked at Craig, a worried expression on his face.

Bobby stood right at the counter, watching the tape. Angel and Jerry both stood on either side of Craig, Jerry still holding the boy. Jack was standing just behind them. Craig looked down at the floor, but his mind started to estimate what his brothers were watching. He turned his head slightly to his right, looking to the back of the store at the meat counter. The floor in front to the meat counter was where she had died. He stared at that spot as that night started to play back in his mind.

Ahmed whispered something to Bobby along the lines of him taking Craig outside for them if they would like.

"He stays with us." Bobby shook his head and glanced back at the boy. He followed Craig's gaze for a moment, then turned back to look at the video monitor.

Craig couldn't get the picture of his mother lying on the floor, blood pooling under her, out of his mind. He could smell the blood from his memory. He could feel the blood as his hand slipped in it as he knelt next to her lifeless body. He managed to pull his gaze away from that spot, but in doing so he found himself staring at the meat counter, behind it actually. He was amazed at how vivid it was all coming back in his mind. He'd spent nearly a week trying to bury the memories of that night, fighting to bury them in some far corner of his mind where they couldn't hurt him. He felt sick inside as he remembered the words the masked man had said to him as he had backed him behind the counter, where he had just walked from. The gun was in his face, and the man was laughing, telling him that he was lucky because he wasn't supposed to be there. What that meant was beyond the boy at that moment. The man's free hand had swung down on him so hard it felt like a sledge hammer slamming him in the left side of his face. He'd fallen back into the wall, and would have ended up on the floor right then, but the man caught him around the waist, twisting him around so that the boy's back was to him. One hand moved down to Craig's jeans, unfastening them, and pulling on them. Craig struggled, but the gun was again shoved into his face. In only moments the man had a grip on him where no man was ever supposed to touch him again. The laughing that rang in his ear caused his knees to buckle, and the man went to the floor with him. Then his words, telling him he'd wanted to do this to him for a long time. The voice was familiar, and the boy knew he had heard it before, but he couldn't place it. Then he'd said he'd heard from a good source that the boy was a good fuck. Craig had been frozen with fear. If the second man hadn't come around the counter telling the first to stop the bullshit he wouldn't have been unable to stop what was about to happen. They had left him there, behind the counter, frozen with fear, and dazed almost into unconsciousness from the hammer like blow that had been inflicted.

Jerry let go of the boy's arm and winced, turning away slightly. Angel made a similar movement. Behind him, Craig could hear Jack whimper slightly. He knew the video had to have been showing the shooting. He wasn't being held by any one at that moment. He moved back slightly, and Jerry and Angel didn't stop him, as their eyes were still peeled on the monitor. Jack had turned around, putting his back to all of them, and he knew if he were going to run, now would be the time. No one seemed to notice he was there. His mind was playing it back in his head again.

The seconds ticked by as he knew they were watching what had happened after his mother had been shot. It was Angel that cursed quietly under his breath, "Oh fuck no. That son of a bitch," And the boy knew for certain his brothers would never forgive him. No one was looking at him; they were watching the video playing back the nightmare that had been haunting him for the past week. He quietly moved his way back towards the door, fighting off panic as his brothers watched the shooter's moves after Evelyn Mercer was lying dead on the floor in front of the meat counter. He felt the cold glass of the door under his hand after what seemed an eternity.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks to everyone for reading!

Legal stuff still stands...

**_Chapter 11: The Rundown_**

Bobby's head turned to look at the boy, his expression unreadable. "Craig! Fuck, grab him! " He cried out as soon as realized the boy was at the door, moving away from them. Angel, Jeremiah and Jack all three turned instantly.

Craig hit the door at a run, and the fear that had been building up channeled to his legs, making him run as hard as he could. He heard Bobby's yells, and then he heard fast feet hitting the pavement behind him as he passed Jerry's car. He pushed his legs harder to pick up speed. He felt hot tears running down his cheeks, and realized that his vision was slightly blurred from tears. Halfway down the street he came to an empty lot, and swung into it, moving to the alley behind it and turning to his left. He could still hear feet running after him, and he heard his name being called. The alley came to a street, and Craig ran past several people on the sidewalk, into the traffic, right in front of a car, but he didn't stop. He could hear tires screeching, and someone was yelling some pretty colorful words after him mixed in with the sounds of Bobby and Jack's cursing. He crossed the street, and headed towards the railroad tracks. He didn't try to look back; he didn't want to know how closely he was being followed. He could still hear the footfalls of his pursuing brothers. He could tell there was more than one of them, but he didn't know if all four where running after him. 

He made it to the tracks and turned to head north, towards the river. His feet hit the gravel next to the tracks, causing him to skid slightly. He thought for a moment that he was going to fall, but he re-gained his footing and ran harder than before, mentally cursing at his self for losing those few seconds.

"Craig!" Jack yelled behind him.

Craig felt as if the air was being sucked out him with no warning. He was going down, with a weight on him. He hit the ground, but he didn't feel it like he should have, it didn't hurt, though he was sure he would be bruised. He twisted around, breaking free of the arms that were trying to entrap him, and he took off running again.

"Damn Angel, you had him!" Bobby's yells filled the air. "What the fuck?"

Craig could still hear them running after him. He was getting tired, fast. The fear that had initially fueled his legs was still there, but exhaustion was winning out. He reached the next street that the tracks crossed and turned to his right, heading towards the bridge. He thought he heard the sounds of his brothers' pursuit growing fainter, and thought that maybe he was losing them. He couldn't face them. They now knew that he hadn't done anything to help his mother. He had let that man grab him and would have let him go on with the act if the other shooter hadn't stopped him and his brothers knew that now.

He turned into the small park just before the bridge, but he wasn't sure exactly where he was running to, he was just trying to get away from his brothers. He couldn't stand the thought of looking at them and knowing they hated him. At the end of the park was a footpath that had been roped off for the season. He hurtled over the rope easily, but slid slightly when he hit the undisturbed snow. It didn't slow him down though, he knew the footpath, and he knew it ran through the trees to the next street over. From there he wasn't sure where he would go. The end of the foot path had always been off limits to him, and he wasn't as familiar with what lay beyond. He only knew that he had to get away from his brothers.

He was still running when hands wrapped around his waist, and he was jerked back, hard, and pulled to the ground. This time he couldn't break free of the hold, this time the arms held on tight enough that it hurt. His eyes squeezed shut and he screamed out and kicked and hit at the person holding him.

"Craig!" Bobby rolled over with him, putting the boy's face in the snow, lying on top of him, his weight holding him down, making it impossible to struggle. "Stop fighting me!" He yelled loud.

"Jesus kid, what the fuck," Angel was hovering over them, panting hard.

Tears were pouring out and he couldn't stop them. He'd been fighting down crying for nearly a full week, forcing any tears back and fighting them down every time they started, and now it was pouring out and he couldn't stop it. He tried again to squirm free from Bobby, though he knew in his mind it was useless. The cold snow stung his face, and his body started shivering instantly. Whether it was from the cold or the pure fear that was taking over him didn't matter. He hoped it would hide the tears that were running full force.

"Boy, you ain't going anywhere." Bobby spoke quietly. "Stop fighting me." He was panting as hard as Angel. "Jack, Jerry was following in his car?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Jack gave a breathless answer.

"Go get him, bring him to this street." Bobby instructed.

Jack took off running.

"You thought it would be a good idea to put him through this?" Angel asked quietly.

"No, I didn't know this was going to happen." Bobby still didn't move off of the boy. He leaned right into the boy's right ear. "Craig, can you hear me?" He asked loud.

Craig was bawling like an infant and Bobby's words only seemed to increase his struggle and his tears.

"You are not going to run from it kid. You are not going to hide from it." Bobby spoke loud. "No one will ever try to shove their cock up your ass again, you got that? That sick motherfucker is gonna find out what happens when you mess with my brother. I will shoot his cock out from between his legs for that. But you are not going to let what he did screw you up! I won't let you!"

Craig still had his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

"I told you once; you are not allowed to say those words." Bobby lifted off of him enough to turn him onto his back. "You better look at me when I'm talking to you." His hands pressed down on the boy's shoulders.

Craig opened his eyes and looked up at his oldest brother through the tears. "I'm sorry!" He cried out again, louder than before.

"That was not your fault, none of it!" Bobby sounded strange to the boy, and as the next flow of tears emptied from his eyes he could see that Bobby looked as if he were crying as well.

"Kid, is that why you wouldn't tell us about it?" Angel asked from behind Bobby. "Jesus." He was leaned over, hands supporting him on his knees, still panting hard. "You thought we'd be mad at you?"

Craig tried to slide out from under Bobby, tried to pull free from the hold the man had on his shoulders. "Let go of me!" He screamed out.

"Stop it!" Bobby's right hand moved long enough to smack the left side of the boy's head. "No one is mad at you Craig. Do you hear me? But you should have told us. You should have told us what that fucker did to you. Cause now when we get them, they are gonna pay for everything. No one touches you like that." Bobby sounded angry, but he had to pull his hands up to wipe his face. He looked down at the boy. "You are supposed to tell us if some one hurts you!" He yelled.

Craig tried to squirm out from under his brother again, but Bobby was straddling him across the stomach and the attempt was useless. He gave up and just cried. He couldn't stop the crying.

"Kid, what the hell has been going through your head?" Angel asked.

Craig closed his eyes and tried kicking his feet. He tried again to squirm his way out from under Bobby, who just sat there and let him struggle.

"Do you think any of that was your fault? Do you?" Angel kept going, his voice gaining strength with each word. "Did you think there was something that you could have done that would have changed anything? You are fourteen years old, and you had a gun pointed at you. There was nothing you could do. Don't you know that? Did you think we wouldn't know that?"

Bobby's head snapped around to look at Angel, then back to the boy. "You thought we would blame you?" He asked. "Is that it? Is that why you wouldn't talk about what happened? Son of Bitch! You don't know your brothers at all do you kid?"

"I couldn't stop them." Craig felt the words slipping out between his sobs and once the first words were out he couldn't seem to stop them. "They shot her and I couldn't stop them. I couldn't move. I didn't do anything to even try." He cried. "I wanted to but I couldn't move. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He couldn't look at either of his brothers; he kept his eyes squeezed closed and cried.

"Shit kid." Bobby cried out. "If you had tried to fight them they would have blown your head off. You are a kid; there was nothing you could have done. I thank God that you didn't do anything stupid and get yourself killed. Mom wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to you. You did exactly what you should have. There was nothing you could do!"

Craig continued bawling. "You would have." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I couldn't move! I couldn't even yell! Mom looked right at me just before they shot her and I couldn't do anything!"

"Maybe we would have been able to do something, but that's us, not you." Angel stood up straight. "We are adults, you aren't."

"He grabbed me." Craig's voice suddenly sounded weak. "I couldn't pull away from him, I couldn't move." He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to chance looking into his brothers' faces and seeing the repulsion he was sure was there.

"That wasn't your fault!" Bobby leaned down and spoke the words loud. "Look at me!"

Craig opened his eyes again, and shook his head slowly. "He said I was lucky, I wasn't supposed to be there. He laughed." Another series of choking sobs hit him. "The son of a bitch laughed and said that he'd wanted to do that for a long time. I knew him! I knew him!" He screamed out as a sudden surge of anger exploded from somewhere inside of him.

Bobby slid down enough to grab Craig up under the shoulders and sit him up, pulling him to him in a hard hug. "It's okay, it doesn't matter. He didn't get you and he won't. We'll find out who he was, and we'll get him for you." He spoke quickly. "You don't have to be afraid of him."

"But I knew him." Craig cried into Bobby's leather jacket. The crying didn't slack off, it seemed to increase, and the aching in his chest that he'd been fighting for so long seemed to break open. "I want MOM." He cried out. "I just want MOM." He suddenly pulled back from Bobby, the anger that he was feeling mixing with shame of being violated. He hit at the man's chest as hard as he could with both fists. "Damn him!" He screamed out.

The sudden movement took Bobby by surprise, and the boy was able to break free. He was on his feet and starting to run, but Bobby recovered quickly, and Angel seemed ready for it. Angel had him first, wrapping his arms around his stomach and lifting him off of his feet. Craig kicked and screamed and swung his arms in an attempt to hit at Angel and break free. Bobby reached to grab his arms and the boy's feet made contact with his torso, knocking him to the ground. Angel hung onto him tight, and was saying something to him, but his own screams were downing out his brother's voice. Bobby didn't try to approach him once he'd pulled himself out of the snow. Craig continued to kick and swing his arms and try to pull out of Angel's hold, screaming and crying during his effort.

"Bobby!" Jerry's voice made it through a short break in Craig's screams as he drew in a breath. Moments later more hands were grabbing at him and he fought even harder, hitting and kicking at whoever it was grabbing at him. He kicked back hard at Angel's shins and made contact.

"Son of a bitch," Angel cried out, and nearly lost his hold on the boy.

"He needs to get it out, we need to let him fight!" Bobby was the one who spoke up and the hands retreated. Bobby stepped up to him. "You want to hit me? Hit me! Go ahead, hit me all you want!" He yelled. "Right here, take your best shot kid!" He slapped at his own chest.

Angel still held him, "What the fuck?" He looked at Bobby.

"Let go of him!" Bobby yelled. "He ain't goin' nowhere."

Angel let go of the boy, and Craig instantly started punching on Bobby, screaming as he landed punches to his brother's stomach and chest.

Bobby seemed unfazed by the blows, but he blocked anything that came near his face. "Get it out! Come on; hit me as hard as you can!" He yelled. "Come on Craig, put some effort into it! You hit like a fuckin' girl!"

The words only fuelled the anger and made it over ride the fear the boy had been feeling. He hit Bobby as hard as he could, as fast as he could, ignoring the pain his hands were feeling. He couldn't stop, he felt the anger and the fear pouring out of his body with every strike.

After what seemed an eternity the energy seemed to drain from Craig's blows. He was crying just as hard as when Bobby first caught him, and his throat and head were hurting and throbbing. The aching in his chest felt a little less intense. He backed a few steps back from Bobby, letting his hands fall to his side. He stepped back until he stepped into Angel.

Jerry and Jack were standing on either side of Bobby, Angel directly behind him; any attempt at running again was blocked. Not that he could have run at that moment, his legs were shaky and he felt as if he couldn't breathe from crying so hard. He waited for one of them to start yelling at him.

Bobby stepped up to him. "Okay?" He looked at the boy. "Are you done?" His voice was quiet, and it seemed calm.

Craig looked at Bobby and suddenly realized the man truly wasn't angry with him. None of his brothers seemed to be angry with him. They didn't blame him for his mother dying. They didn't look at him with disgust after knowing what that man had tried to do with him. All he could think was that his brothers were really being brothers at that moment. He grabbed hold of Bobby and pulled himself into him and away from Angel, grabbing hold hard and burying his face in his coat again, still sobbing as hard as before. He felt Bobby's arms wrap around him and for the first time that whole week he felt like things could be okay. He felt hands on his back and knew his brothers were trying to comfort him and it felt right to let them. He didn't try to speak now, he just cried.

"He's freezing." Jerry spoke after a long while. "Come on; let's get him to the car." He sounded calm.

Bobby pulled his arms down. "Craig, put your arms around my neck and hang on." He instructed. Craig did what Bobby told him without thinking as to why. "I'm gonna pick you up, okay? Don't freak out me." Bobby eased his hands under Craig's arms, lifting him up and then wrapped his arms around him to hold him off the ground.

When they got to Jerry's car Jerry opened the back driver's side door and Bobby eased the boy into the seat. "Slide over kid." He climbed in next to Craig and let the boy grab hold again. Jack got in on the other side, while Angel and Jerry got into the front. Bobby kept his arms around Craig without saying a word.

Jerry looked at Bobby in the rearview mirror. "We need to go back to that fucking store and ask about that damn witness."

Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah, I know." He agreed. He looked down at the boy clinging to him, "We have to go back Craig. That means you have to go with us. You can do that, can't you?"

Craig didn't answer, he just held onto Bobby tighter. His crying was finally slacking off, but his throat felt raw and tight. He sniffed a bit at the left over tears that tried to make their way out.

"You are gonna be fine. You are with us. We aren't gonna let anything happen to you. You tell me though; can you do this with us? I'll be holding onto you the whole time." Bobby spoke with a calm, cautious voice.

Craig nodded his head slightly. Yeah, he could do it. He didn't want to have to let go of Bobby yet, or lose that safe feeling that he had at the moment. If Bobby went to the store without him, he'd have to let go of his brother, and he didn't think he could do that yet.

"Good boy." Bobby gave him a squeeze.

Jerry parked the car in the same spot it had been before the chase. He turned and looked at Bobby. "Is he okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, he's gonna be fine." Bobby gave the boy a quick rub on the back. "You ready?" He asked.

Jerry dug in his pocket and thrust a clean handkerchief back to Bobby. "Let him blow his nose and get himself calm." He spoke quietly.

Bobby took the handkerchief from Jerry and moved Craig enough that he could hand it over to him. "You heard your big brother, blow your nose."

"And you can keep that." Jerry added as Craig started blowing.

"What Jerr', you too good to carry your little brother's snot rag in your pocket?" Jack joked.

Craig laughed a little at the joke, and it seemed most of the tension that had built up inside of him was gone.

Bobby laughed too, and gave Craig a few more minutes to blow his nose and get rid of the last of the tears.

"Okay, come on." Bobby finally opened his door. "You just stay with me." He held Craig's hand as he had earlier and pulled him from the car.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, I've been fighting with my computer all day, and have been working on this between my desktop and my laptop. My desktop has suffered a major system crash, and HOPEFULLY I've got all I need on my laptop!!

Thanks for all the nice reviews, I am greatful! And I will do my best to update this as soon as possible, but a lot depends on my computer :(

Legal stuff still applies...

* * *

**_Chapter 12: New Point of View_**

When they walked back into the store Bobby asked Ahmed if they could view the video one more time.

The older man looked at Craig skeptically. "Are you sure?" He asked, quickly looking back up to Bobby.

Craig looked at the man he had seen nearly every day of his life for the past two years. "I'm fine." He spoke before Bobby could answer. Bobby was still holding his hand. The boy wrapped his free arm around Bobby's arm, hugging it to him. He just needed to be able to hold onto someone.

Bobby looked at the man. "He's gonna be fine. We'll make sure of that. He ain't gonna watch, but we need to." He motioned to his other three brothers then moved Craig in front of him, facing him and not the counter where the monitor was still sitting. He pulled Craig into him. "He's not watching." He rested a hand at the back of Craig's head, to prove the boy would not turn to look.

Ahmed agreed, and cued the video to the correct time. He let it play, watching the men as they watched for a second time. Their reaction were the same as the last time, only this time, Bobby let a few tears slide down his cheeks.

"This doesn't add up. He's already got the money." Bobby spoke quietly. He looked at the man behind the counter. "Supposedly there was a witness that told the police this was a gang shooting. Do you know anything about that?"

"The police talked to one man for a long time, one man more than the others." Ahmed informed. He went onto describe the young man to them. Telling them he was on the courts a lot, or at the school gym across the street.

Bobby nodded his head, and turned to walk out of the store with his brothers grouped around him. He still held Craig against him, an arm around him. As they exited the store Bobby shook his head. "That was no gang shooting that was an execution. They set Mom up, they set her up." His attention was drawn to the school across the street. The lot was full of cars. "Come on." He moved his hold back to Craig's hand and they started walking towards the school. Their pace was soon quickened to a run with Bobby pulling Craig along.

When they walked into the gym a game was in session. Craig seemed to remember something about a tournament that weekend. Although he went to a different school, his school's team was slated to play sometime that weekend. He felt nervous. First it was a fake police raid the night before and now he wasn't sure what his brother's were up to. Jerry was all in for this one too and that seemed odd to the boy. He didn't have the energy to ask any questions, though he hadn't expected to be in a school gym after his little meltdown. He felt exposed, and wasn't sure why. His brothers were the only four people in the world that knew his secret now, and they weren't angry with him. They were taking him with them, something they hadn't done before in his entire time as being one of Evelyn Mercer's sons. He'd heard about their encounters from other people, and he'd heard bits and pieces of their own stories, but the previous night had been the first time he'd been a part of any of it. His mind was spinning a bit, and his heart was racing, but he wasn't sure if it was the excitement of the moment or the effects of his outburst less than thirty minutes earlier.

As they walked into the gym Bobby moved his hand from Craig's and rested it on his shoulder. He looked from Jerry on his left, to Angel who was on his right. "You guys ready?"

"What's the plan Bobby?" Jerry asked.

"We're wingin' it Jerry." Bobby spoke as he looked around at the crowd and the players moving on the court.

"We always wing it." Jerry commented.

"We're gonna get killed." Jack looked directly at Bobby as the man turned to look at him.

Craig turned slightly to his left to watch the exchange.

He noticed Angel looking at Jack as well. "Whatchu you mean 'we', white boy?" He asked calmly.

Bobby shifted his attention to Angel. "You ready?"

Angel gave a slight nod and turned to walk away as Bobby gave Craig a slight push back into Jack and started walking onto the basket ball court.

Jack dropped a long arm across Craig's shoulders. "Here we go."

Jerry threw his hands out as if he couldn't believe what Bobby was doing.

Bobby walked out into the court, his hand held out as if he was trying to get everyone's attention. Craig felt his heart start to race even harder as his brother walked right into the middle of court and the crowd around them started yelling and booing instantly.

Jack leaned down. "You know anyone here?" He asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders as he watched the referee and the ball players from both teams move around Bobby. He couldn't hear what was being said, until Bobby grabbed the ball from the referee and started dribbling it. "Yeah, I got the rock now!" He yelled out. "I got this mother fucker now."

One of the ball players made a move towards Bobby; the man slammed the basketball hard into the boy's face, grabbed him at the neck and threw him to the floor. Craig flinched at the sound of the boy's head cracking against the wood floor, and couldn't help but think of how many times he'd been afraid of Bobby's anger, but he really had never been afraid of Bobby actually hurting him. It occurred to him that Bobby lost his head way too easy, but he'd never lost it like that with him. He'd been hard on him at times, but he'd never hurt him, and he seemed to find some kind of peace as he realized his other brothers and his mother were the only people he'd ever seen Bobby hold his temper with like that. Bobby had let him have his meltdown out in a public park and had let him kick and scream and hit at him without knocking the shit out of him. That meant that somewhere along the line he fit into their family, and he wondered why he'd never seen that before. His attention was drawn back to Bobby as both teams seemed to move in on him.

"Whoa, whoa," Bobby shouted above the noise of the crowd. "No need to touch me!" He was spinning and the young men surrounding him seemed to fall back quickly. It was then that Craig could see the gun in Bobby's hands. He hadn't even known he was carrying it. He'd been clinging to the man in Jerry's Volvo and hadn't noticed the gun.

As if on cue Jerry moved quickly out into the court, moving to Bobby, holding his arm out to prevent Bobby from taking aim on anyone. The two of them moved in a circle, Jerry changing his stance to keep people away from Bobby.

"Watch the crowd kid. You see any one get up to leave, you point them out." Jack spoke calmly, as if this were a normal occurrence.

"This will only take a second, now shut up and listen!" Bobby yelled. "My name is Bobby Mercer, and some of you probably knew my mother and some of you probably knew she was shot about a week ago across the street, sixty two years old, murdered in cold blood."

Jerry was standing next to Bobby, hands on his hips. He was saying something to Bobby quietly as Bobby went on. "I'm looking for the witness."

Jerry continued to speak and Craig thought he heard him telling Bobby to think.

Bobby looked at Jerry, "I got this." He spoke quietly, but Craig was sure that was what he'd said before he turned back to the crowd. "A big guy, supposedly never wears a coat, dog lover, ring any bells?"

Craig put his attention to the crowd as Jack had instructed him to do. He could see a boy about his age, maybe a year or two older, standing up and moving to the exit. He used his elbow to jab Jack in the stomach and then pointed.

"You tell me where I can find the guy and you can finish your game." Bobby was saying.

"You come with me." Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him along side of him, following the boy to the gym exit while Bobby went on talking.

Craig's heart started racing again. He could see the boy going through the door, and was sure they were going to lose him. Jack let go of his arm as they reached the door. "You stay with me." He glanced back at Craig before pushing the door open. The boy they were following was moving away from a set of doors that were locked tight with a chain and padlock. Craig was sure it was the same set of doors they had entered by and wondered how they ended up locked.

Jack moved quickly. "Hey, kid!" He called out. The boy took off running, and Jack took off after him. "No, running, in the halls," Jack yelled as he ran.

Craig stood frozen for a short moment then followed.

He watched as the boy hit the door at the other end of the hall and seemed to bounce off of it back into Jack, who grabbed hold of him instantly.

"Get off me man!" The kid yelled out.

"Why you runnin'," Jack sounded amused.

Craig reached them as Angel came through the door looking royally pissed.

"Man, get off me! I don't know nothin'," The boy cried out, trying to break free from Jack.

"Why don't you shut up?" Jack had a smirk on his face.

Angel stood in front of the boy and looked down at him with a threatening stare. It would have sent shivers down Craig's back if he'd been on the receiving end, and it was one he'd never seen from Angel before. "You got something to tell me youngster?" He asked.

Craig looked at the boy. "Keenan, is that you?" He asked quietly as he recognized his former school mate.

Keenan looked at Craig and ducked his head "Craig." He'd been a year ahead of Craig in school, and they had known each other until Keenan's family had moved two years before.

Angel took a hold of Keenan's jacket and backed him up to the brick wall. "Go get Bobby before he kills someone." He looked at Jack. "Or they kill him."

Craig looked at Angel, not sure if he should stay or go with Jack.

Angel looked at Craig. "You know him?" He asked, motioning to Keenan.

Craig watched Jack run back up the hall. He turned back to Angel. "I used to." He muttered. "We used to hang out at school some. Keenan Hutchinson."

Angel nodded his head and was quiet for a long time before he looked at Keenan. "Why were you leavin' before the end of the game Keenan?"

Keenan looked at Craig. "Who the hell are these people?" He asked.

Craig looked up at Angel and then back to Keenan. "My brothers," He answered, and the words seemed to have a different meaning for him than they ever had before.

"Yeah, right," Keenan spoke as if he didn't believe Craig. "What the fuck do you people want with me?" He asked.

Before an answer could be given Jack came back through the door with Bobby and Jerry close behind. Bobby walked up to stand behind Craig, placing his arms around Craig's shoulders. "What have we got here?"

"Bobby, meet Craig's friend Keenan. Keenan, this is Bobby." Angel spoke as the four men blocked Keenan from running in any direction. "Something tells me he was on his way to deliver a warning."

Bobby nodded his head slightly. "What's his name Keenan?"

Keenan looked at Craig and shook his head. "Damian." He looked at Bobby and sounded as if he were pleading. "He's my brother."

Bobby laughed slightly. "He's your brother? No shit, we're Craig's brothers."

Keenan looked at Craig, confusion written on his face. He looked at Angel and Jerry's dark skin, then to Bobby, Jack and Craig's white faces. "No, 'Dawg', he's my real brother."

Bobby laughed, "Yeah, we're Craig's real brothers. That's Angel, I'm Bobby, that's Jack and Jeremiah." He nodded to each as he spoke their names. "So what about you and Damian, you guys still close? Does he live at home with you?"

Keenan gave Bobby a cautious look. "Yeah, but I ain't tellin' you shit else." He looked at Craig.

Bobby seemed as calm as Craig had ever seen him. "Okay." The man seemed to understand.

"I wouldn't sell out my brother's either." Angel spoke the words easily and looked right at Craig. Craig knew that was the truth, and for the first time since he'd been adopted by Evelyn Mercer, he felt he was one of the brothers Angel was referring to.

Bobby let go of Craig and reached up to pull Keenan's back pack off of his shoulder. He handed it over to Angel and Jerry, and then gave Keenan a small smile, patting him on the shoulder. "It's okay, just calm down. We just want to talk to him, that's all. Now will he co-operate?"

Keenan let out a huff and gave a slight shake of his head.

Angel pulled what appeared to be a quarterly report out of the backpack and looked at it. He let Jerry take the paper.

"We got somethin'."Jerry pointed to the paper and remarked that they lived in some apartments nearby.

Craig looked at Keenan, wondering how he was going to explain to his brother about the Mercer brothers using him to find him. He felt sorry for him and wasn't sure why.

Bobby told Keenan to go back to watch the rest of the game, and assured him it was going to be okay. He pulled his arm back up to Craig's shoulders and guided him casually towards the door.

Craig heard Jack complimenting Keenan on his grades, and then Jerry said something about the medallion Keenan was wearing, asking if it was aluminum. Bobby stopped at the door, holding it open, and he looked back, as did Craig, at the exchange. Jack laughed and commented how the shit wouldn't even spend.

Bobby gave Craig a slight tug once he was sure his brothers were following him and they made their way out of the building.

Jack gave Craig an easy pat on the back. "Good eyes kid." He smiled.

Bobby looked at Jack and then down at Craig, "You spotted him?" He asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders.

"It's gonna be fine Craig, don't worry." Bobby spoke calmly as they walked back to the cars. "We just want to talk to this guy, that's all."

Jerry climbed into the back seat of Bobby's car with Craig and Jack this time and Bobby guided the car to the address that had been on the paper from Keenan's backpack. It was only half a block from the store. He parked along the curb and turned off the engine. Angel and Bobby got out of the car and walked up to the main entrance of the building.

Craig was squeezed in tightly between Jerry and Jack and was uncomfortable. He tried to adjust his position a little until Jack gave him a look that told him he was disturbing him.

Bobby and Angel returned less than five minutes later. "Not home." Angel announced as they both got into the car. "There's a security door, and you have to be buzzed in. When we rang the apartment listed with Keenan's last name there was no answer."

"So now what," Jack asked.

"We wait." Bobby answered.

Jerry sighed after ten minutes of sitting in quiet. "I just don't get it. Why would somebody hire a god dammed killer to shoot Mom?" He asked.

Bobby turned his head slightly, "Here's an idea, we'll wait for the shit head to get back and we'll ask him."

Jerry nodded his head. "Well ya' all do what ya gotta do, but I got gymnastics." He patted the back of Bobby's seat. "Come one let me out."

Craig was thankful Jerry was getting out of the car, at least he wouldn't be so cramped up. Bobby, Angel and Jack laughed at Jerry's words.

"You got your leotard on Jerr'?" Bobby asked.

"Go to hell man, you all know what I'm talking about, I got a schedule to keep and the girls got gymnastics, I gotta take 'em. Come on, let me out man." He patted the back of bobby's seat again.

Bobby let him out, "You want to take Cracker Jack with ya? He's very flexible." He laughed.

"Funny, you're the one that took ballet." Jack shot back.

Craig leaned against the side of the car, watching Jerry jog back up the street towards where his car was parked.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and shook his head. He and Angel started talking about Angel being in the Marines in Korea, and Jack was singing quietly to himself, huffing hot breath on the window and doodling in the fog it left behind.

Craig looked out at the dirty snow on the streets, wondering what was going to happen next. He was starting to wonder just what his brothers were capable of. Bobby had put the ball player on the floor so hard Craig had heard his head hit the wood. The look in Angel's eyes when he came through the door, looking down at Keenan was one he'd never seen before. His brothers had given him 'looks' before, but never like that one. Jack had seemed more amused with what was going on at the gym than anything. Jerry had been the only one who seemed to have a level head, but at the same time he'd 'winged' it with Bobby perfectly, standing between him and any one that tried to make a move on him. The four of them had worked together as if each knew what the other was thinking. All the while, Craig had been in awe of it all, not sure what was going to happen next. Part of him was dreading finding out what his brothers would do when they got a hold of this guy, and another part of him was anticipating it.

"Hey, that's him." Jack turned to look at Bobby. "That's him." He spoke a louder that time, reaching down to the floor and picking up the crowbar from the night before.

Craig jumped at the words and movement that seemed to fill the car from all three of his brothers. He looked out the window and could see a guy wearing brown sweats, walking towards the building.

"Craig you stick with Jack, no matter what you stay behind Jack!" Bobby called out at he pushed his door open, got out of the car and pulled the seat up, leaving the door opened as he moved away.

Angel and Jack were getting out just as quickly as Bobby was. "Come on kid, move it." Jack called to him.

Craig got out of the car as quickly as he could and closed the door just as Jack closed the other door. His brothers took off running, with Bobby in the lead, towards the building, and he had to run to keep up with them. Bobby reached the door just before it closed, and pulled it open. Jack reached back and grabbed Craig's coat as they reached the door of the building. "Stay behind me." He reminded before they made their way through the narrow hall, turning one corner and running towards the elevator.

"Yo, Damian," Bobby called out as he pulled up to a stop half way down the hall. Craig was able to look past his brothers and see the man in the brown sweats standing at the elevator turn to look at who was calling his name.

"You Damian?" Bobby asked as he pulled out his gun.

Damian's eyes widened at the sight of the gun and he stepped onto the elevator quickly.

Bobby ran towards the elevator, Angel followed, "Why you pullin' out guns and shit 'Dawg'?" He asked as they ran to the elevator.

Jack grabbed the front of Craig's coat and pulled him along after him. The elevator door closed just as they reached it. Bobby pulled up his left leg and kicked at the closing door hard. He started punching on the call button repeatedly.

Just as Jack and Craig caught up to Bobby and Angel, Bobby turned and looked at Jack. "Jack, you and Craig both stay here; tell me where this stops." He headed for the stairwell with Angel right behind him.

Jack let go of Craig and stepped up to stand in front of the elevator, watching the numbers above it light up. He read each one off quietly as it lit up. Craig found himself counting how many seconds each number stayed lit. When the number six lit up he started his mental count, and the light didn't go out when it should have, it stayed lit.

"Six." Jack spoke quietly. "It stopped." He turned and ran to the stairwell door, pushing it open quickly. "Six!" He yelled loud. "It stopped at six!" He pulled back from the door and looked at Craig. "You okay?" He asked.

Craig realized he was still staring up at the numbers. He looked over at Jack and nodded his head. "Yeah," He nodded his head.

Jack smiled and waved for him to follow him. "Come on." He pushed the door under his hand all the way open.

Craig followed Jack into the stairwell. Jack started walking up the steps at a casual pace. "You aren't in a hurry?" Craig asked.

"Nah," Jack shook his head. "Bobby had his gun pulled, and if the guy makes it back to the stairwell we'll hear him." He spoke calmly, as he swung the crowbar up and hooked it over the metal railing above him as he walked up the steps.

Craig was amazed at how calm Jack seemed. His own heart was beating hard and fast. "You don't think they'll need you?" Craig asked.

Jack stopped in the middle of the flight of stairs and looked back at the boy. "They don't need me for anything. Besides, I don't like guns." He held up the crowbar as if to prove his point. "If Bobby shoots him, I sure as hell don't want to see it."

Craig thought about the words. "You don't like guns?" He hadn't really expected to hear that.

"Have you ever seen me carry a gun?" Jack asked.

Craig searched his memories. "No," He admitted after a few moments. "But you've handled them." He remembered Bobby and Jack talking about the lessons Bobby had given the younger man in shooting, and about some of the times Jack had backed his brothers up with a gun.

"Yeah, but I don't like them, and I don't shoot them if I can avoid it," Jack turned and started up the stairs again. "The only reason Bobby taught me was so I'd be familiar with them, and feel a little more comfortable around them. I hated them being in the house when I was younger." He stopped again looked down at Craig, who stopped one step below him. "You don't like guns either, do you?" He asked.

Craig shook his head, remembering the scar on his back. "No." He muttered.

"Yeah, we all figured that." Jack turned and started up the stairs again. "Little brother, I think you and I have more in common than either of us realized." He sighed. "Maybe someday we'll talk about it."

Craig barely made it to the next step when the sound gun fire hit his ears. He froze and looked up at Jack. It sounded like the shots were coming from outside, not inside the building. Jack didn't move from his spot, he seemed to be listening, trying to figure out what was going on above them. Then the sound of screaming from outside drew their attention to the window they has walked under a moment before just in time to see a brown sweat suite drop past.

Craig felt his mouth drop open.

Jack cocked his head to the side. "Well, that's a new way of asking questions, even for Bobby." He shrugged his shoulders and looked at Craig as voices above them echoed through the stairwell. Jack turned and looked up, "Bobby, is that you?" He called up.

"Yeah, we're coming down." Bobby called back, still out of site.

Craig looked up past Jack to see Bobby and Angel coming down the steps moments later.

"What the fuck are you complaining about it's a hell of a lot easier going down than going up." Bobby was speaking to Angel in an irritated voice.

"We still could have used the fucking elevator." Angel shook his head.

"You know the rule; we go out the same way we go in. Otherwise Jack get's left behind because he's following us so damn slow." Bobby didn't stop as he reached Jack and Craig, he kept moving.

"Did he tell you anything?" Jack asked as Angel pushed his way past them.

"Not yet." Angel called back. "Come on, both of you." He didn't look back.

"He's not dead?" Jack asked.

"Not yet." Angel laughed.

Jack looked at Craig, "Well I guess we'd better join them." He laughed and headed back down the stairs at a quicker pace than he'd been using going up.

Craig followed, making sure to stay close to Jack. When they hit the cold air he shivered slightly. It seemed in the short time they'd been in the building the temperature had fallen. He suddenly wanted to go wait in the car. He didn't want to go look at some guy splattered on the ground.

As they reached the corner Bobby and Angel stopped and waited for their brothers. Bobby slid his left arm around Craig's shoulders. "He's not dead, come on." He spoke to the boy. "Are you cold?" He could feel the boy shivering.

Craig nodded his head slightly then remembered Bobby didn't like it when he did that. "Yeah, a little," He muttered.

"Let's hope Mr. Sweat Pants is even colder." He commented. "Maybe he'll talk faster." He walked Craig on around the corner of the building. Jack walked on their right, Angel was on their left. "Don't feel sorry for him either, you got that? The asshole turned his dogs on your brothers, and he pulled a fucking gun on us."

Craig found the statement odd. "But you pulled your gun first." He muttered.

"Yeah, but I just wanted to talk." Bobby shook his head, sounding sincere of his intentions.


	13. Chapter 13

I feel like I'm repeating myself, but thanks to all for the nice comments, and please let me know what you think. I lost a lot of this moving it to my laptop, so I'm having to re-write.

Still don't make any money, and I still don't own Four Brothers...

**Chapter 13: Give Me a Name**

_They could see Damian lying in the snow ahead of them his left leg twisted in an ugly fashion. Snows flakes were falling harder than they had been earlier, the wind had picked up and it looked like a storm might be moving in. _

_"Man, you must be freezing." Jack called out as they approached the injured man._

_Angel stopped long enough to pick a gun up out of the snow. "You won't be needin' this no more 'Playboy'." He spoke just loud enough for the shivering Damian to hear._

_They reached the shivering form moments later, stopping directly above him. Craig was surprised the man was alive, let alone awake. Then he seen jagged bone protruding from Damian's leg and went weak inside. He turned quickly, putting his back to the blood and bone._

_"You know why we're here Damian?" Bobby asked as he tightened his hold on the boy. He diverted his gaze from Damian long enough to steal a quick glance down at Craig, as if he were making sure he wasn't going to try to run again. _

_Craig's movement also drew Angel's attention, who grabbed hold of Craig's arm quickly, without actually looking away from the so called witness lying in front of them. He pulled on the boy moving him away from Bobby and over to face him. He let go of Craig, but rested his hand on his shoulder. From the angle Craig __was standing now, he couldn't see Damian's leg, but he could still see the man lying in the snow, gasping from the cold and pain. He turned his head to his left, away from the sight before him. _

_Damian looked up at the men. "Come on, come on, call me an ambulance." He shivered hard as he wheezed out the words._

_"An ambulance, what for my dog bites?" Bobby held his left arm, examining it as he spoke. "No, I'm gonna be okay." He dropped his arm and looked at the young man for a long moment. "You give me a name and I'll call 911, I want to know who shot up that liquor store now."_

_Damian shook his head. "Man, I didn't, I didn't shoot no one." He huffed._

_"Say what?" Angel smiled. "Speak up; I can't hear you out here 'Playboy'. It's too hard to hear you out here with all this wind." He let a smile creep across his face. "If we leave you out here, there ain't nobody else gonna be able to hear you out here either." He turned and looked around at the secluded area behind the apartment building. It was obvious that no one would find the guy lying in the snow until long after the weather had sucked the life out of him._

_"They say it's gonna get cold out here tonight." Bobby spoke the words quietly._

_"You ain't gonna make it far with that leg." Jack added._

_Damian was gripping the left pant leg just above where the bone was jutting through. He raised his right hand slightly. "Look," He gasped, "these two fools said they'd pay me a few dubs if I said I saw some gangsters shoot up the place, awright? But I didn't hurt no one." _

_"Ah, well turn into a fuckin' fudge cycle." Angel spoke quickly and moved as if he were going to walk away. Bobby made a similar move taking a hold of Craig's arm._

_"Oh come on man," Damian cried out, and Bobby and Angel both hesitated. "I can't say nothin'," _

_"Fair enough, you're gonna die right here." Bobby made a gesture towards the busted leg, and then he and Angel both turned, in one motion, walking away with Craig between them._

_Jack lagged behind, looking at the injured man. Craig turned his head back to see what Jack was doing, but Bobby gave him a pull. "I'm callin' his bluff." He spoke calmly. "Don't look back; it kind of ruins the effect."_

_Damian's cries were constant behind them. _

_Jack caught up to them after a few seconds. Craig kept his stare down towards his feet. He couldn't believe his brothers would just leave the guy there. _

_"You think he's gonna break?" Angel asked._

_"With that Chinese sparerib hangin' out of his leg it's just a matter of time." Bobby looked over at Angel._

_"Someone help me!" Damian cried out._

_"You're sure?" Angel asked. He and Bobby both pulled up to a stop, halting Craig as they did. Jack stood on Bobby's left turned sideways and looking back at Damian._

_"You wanna' put money on it?"Bobby was looking at Angel._

_"You're sure?" Angel repeated with a smile on his face, and then looked past Bobby to Jack. "Turn around! Dick lips!" He cried out when he realized Jack was looking back at the man in the snow._

_Bobby turned to look at Jack, "What the fuck are you lookin' at?"_

_Jack shrugged his shoulders and looked as if he were about to argue the idea of leaving the man to die in the snow when Damian cried out again. "I'll tell you where you can find 'em! Just call me an ambulance."_

_All three men turned back towards Damian. Bobby let go of Craig long enough to give Jack a hard smack to the chest and then grabbed Craig's arm again, pulling him with him as they made their way back to Damian._

_"Give me a name." Bobby spoke quickly as he looked down at Damian._

_"Where can we find 'em?" Angel added._

_Damian squeezed his eyes closed and gasped out some breaths. "They hang out at this place called the Casino Restaurant. I only know one name. Stanley. The other fucker's got a braided goatee with a gold bead, but I don't know his name. They are at the Casino every Saturday night." He cried out. "Now call me a fucking ambulance please?"_

_Craig felt his heart pounding hard. His stomach started to ache on him and his knees felt weak. Stanley. Stanley Miller, Anthony's brother. Stanley Miller had held the gun in his face. Stanley Miller had been the man who had put his hand down his pants and grabbed him. He'd only met Stanley a few times, and he'd never liked the man, he was a nasty ass who gave him the creeps. Anthony didn't even like him. A picture of Stanley flashed in his mind. His height, his build, his voice, it all fit with the shooter who had forced him behind the meat counter. It was getting hard for him to suck in air. Then Craig remembered Anthony had said he lived with his brother. Craig wondered how many times Stanley had messed with Anthony. He was a sick ass hole, Craig couldn't have been the first one Stanley had tried to force himself on, and Anthony had been around him his whole life. No wonder Anthony had sounded so strange at the ice rink. To have to live with something like that, and not feel as if he could tell anyone. His brain clicked with the other words Stanley Miller had said to him that night. He'd heard from a good source that he was a good fuck. He'd said that. there was only one other person who had ever touched him like that. Only one other person._

_Angel pulled out his cell phone. "Okay, I'm calling." He spoke to Damian. "I'll make sure they know where you are." He turned away as he dialed the phone and then started talking quietly into it._

_Bobby looked down at Craig. "You're shaking pretty bad. You're that cold?" He turned to Jack. "Take your brother to the car and wait for us?" He dug his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Jack. "Get the car warmed up for him."_

_"Come on Craig." Jack motioned for the boy to follow him. _

_Craig swallowed back at the panic that was settling into his gut. He turned without looking at any of his brothers and followed Jack back towards the car._

* * *

_Angel turned back around, closing up his phone a few moments later and looked down at Damian. "They're on their way. I don't care what the fuck you tell them when they get here, so long as you don't mention us. Remember that."_

_Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah, don't make us come back here." He and Angel turned and started walking away._

_"Hey, man, you can't just leave me here; I'll freeze to death out here waiting!" Damian cried out._

_Angel looked at Bobby. "You think we should stick around long enough to make sure they find him?" He asked as they both stopped after walking nearly ten yards._

_"Naw, you told 'em where he was, right?" Bobby asked. _

_"Yeah, but he don't have no coat." Angel pointed out._

_"Bet he starts wearing one now." Bobby laughed. "They'll be here in ten minutes. He'll be fine. The cold is probably the only thing that's gonna save his life anyway." He remarked, looking back at Damian. "It's stopping him from bleeding to death."_

_Angel drew in a deep breath. "Yeah, about bleeding," He spoke quietly. "The kid can't handle blood." _

_"I've noticed." Bobby nodded his head, looking at Angel._

_"He can't be with us when we find these guys." Angel spoke slowly. "Why don't we drop him off at Jerry's to spend the night?"_

_"No." Bobby spoke the word without hesitation. "He can hang back with Jack, but we need him with us." _

_"Why do we need him with us?" Angel looked confused._

_"Because he needs to tell us which one of the fuckers gets his balls shot off," Bobby spoke with a matter-of-fact tone to his voice. _

_A thoughtful expression crossed Angel's face. "Did he recognize that name?" He asked. "Stanley?"_

_Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say." He answered._

_"Did you ask him?" Angel pressed._

_"We can ask him at home. He needed to warm up; he was shivering from the cold." Bobby shook his head._

_"Or could be he started shaking because he recognized the name." Angel pointed out. _

_Bobby looked at Angel, then at the retreating forms of Jack and Craig just as they rounded the building and disappeared from sight. "Could be," He agreed. "But we aren't gonna ask him here. We'll talk with him at home. I'm not up for another foot race, and I'm damn sure not up for another beating." He reached up to his chest and rubbed on it. "That little shit has some power behind his punches. I think next time he needs to let off some steam it should be your turn to take the heat."_

_"Oh hell no, unlike some people I don't like pain." Angel laughed and shook his head. "I will not stand there and let someone hit on me for the hell of it. I have more sense than that."_

_"You pussy," Bobby muttered. "I'm tellin' ya, that kid could be a fucking boxer."_

_"You know, that little outburst wasn't much, not really." Angel commented. "He's liable to lose it like that again if you make him be a part of this, and it may not be so easy to quell when it happens again."_

_"He's gonna be fine. He needed to get the shit out of his system, that's all. It's not healthy holding in that kind of anger. He's just like Jack was. Jack had to learn to let his anger out too."_

_"But unlike Jack, Craig ain't a fighter, and you know it. Hell, he can't stand the sight of blood, he don't need to be around it. Mom sheltered him man, you know that. She had a reason for keeping him away from it. It's more than just anger, and you know that too." Angel spoke quickly. "I hope you know what you're doing here."_

_"Maybe Ma babied him too much." Bobby started to say something more, but the distant sounds of a siren weaved in with the howls of the wind. "Come on, that's our queue to get the fuck out of here." He started walking again. They picked up the pace when the sound seemed to grow nearer._

_When Craig and Jack reached the car Jack climbed into the driver's seat long enough to start the engine. Once the car was running he got out, stood in the open door and pulled the seat up. "Come on; get in out of the wind." He told Craig, who was standing there, his eyes focused on the ground with his hands shoved into his pockets._

_Craig climbed in, and slid over to the passenger's side of the back seat. He pulled his coat around him and curled up next to the window. He looked out at t he building they had just walked around. He felt Jack get into the back seat, and he heard the card door close before the man sat back in the seat, pulling the front seat back. _

_Jack looked over at him. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked._

_Craig nodded his head absentmindedly._

_"You're sure? I know it's pretty intense, being around them when they're like this." Jack commented. "You can't stop them when they go into this mode."_

_Craig didn't look away from the window view. "They won't let him die out there, will they?"He asked weakly._

_Jack was quiet for a long moment. "They won't let him die. He told us what we needed to know. But the two fuckers that killed Mom will pay."_

_The air in the car was starting to warm slightly when Bobby and Angel rounded the corner of the building at an almost trot. _

_Craig was thankful when Bobby and Angel got into the car and they were moving down the street. They passed an ambulance a few blocks from the apartment building. He turned and kept his gaze out the window next to him. _

_The day's events were starting to catch up to him. It had been all happened so quickly that he'd barely had time to take it all in. Now each moment from that morning seemed to playing back in his mind in slow motion. The images weren't coming in order either. The expression on Keenan's face when he realized Craig's brothers were going after his own brother, the fear in Damian's voice as he lay on the ground, his bone exposed to the cold, it seemed more intense in his memory than it had been when it happened. He couldn't help but wonder if the ball player Bobby had put to the wood floor was okay. His own knuckles felt bruised, and he thought about all the punches he'd landed on Bobby. Bobby would have to be covered in bruises. His fear of what his brothers would do when they seen the video and found out that he'd done nothing to stop any of the events of that awful night had __been stronger than anything else, and facing that and releasing it had been exhausting._

_He felt drained, but his mind wouldn't stop finding something to think about. He felt an itch building on his right leg and almost reached down to scratch at it. He fought the temptation. He wished he had his sketch pad with him; he wanted to draw the pictures that were running around in his head. He thought that he might be able to get Bobby to let him go to his room when they got home. Maybe he'd let him take a short nap, and then he could draw. He could get the day's events out of his head if he could get them on paper. He could sort through them and figure them all out. _

_He did feel less anxious around his brothers. In fact, he didn't want to be away from them, though he'd seen some very frightening things from them that day, as well as the night before. They had held a gun on a man and poured gasoline on people to get information the previous night, but Craig hadn't been certain they were capable of carrying out that kind of threat until he'd seen how Bobby had put that boy to the floor of the basketball court, his head cracking hard on the wood. He would never forge the look in Angel's eyes when he'd stared Keenan down in the hall. Jeremiah had joined Bobby on the court as if instinct had drawn him out, though he had been trying to talk Bobby into dealing with the situation differently, he'd still supported him and watched his back. _

_He'd never seen his brothers really work together before. It seemed they were always going off in their own directions before. Bobby had gone off to pursue his hockey. Jack had his music. Angel had joined the Marines, and Jerry had h is work and family. That day, as well as the night before, he'd seen them coming together, reading each other's moves as if they were all four thinking with one mind. Part of Craig wanted to be included in that, but he'd been confused most of the morning, not able to read his brothers' moves as they could. He'd simply done what they had told him, being held by one of them just about the whole time._

_His brothers' reactions to the knowledge of what had happened the night their mother was killed had been the most surprising. He had been so scared of them finding out everything that had happened that night in the store. But they didn't hate him, in fact, as odd as it seemed, he felt closer to them, and less afraid of them. He didn't feel so different from them. He had never thought he would ever hit any of his brothers, and Bobby had stood there and let him empty out the rage that had exploded from inside. If Bobby didn't care about him, it woudl have been the other way around. His brothers had told him it wasn't his fault, and he was willing to believe them. It didn't exactly erase the feeling that he should have done something, but his brothers said he did exactly what he should have, and for the moment that was enough for him. _


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for reading :)

Disclaimer still counts for this.

**_Chapter 14: Home Again_**

When they got to the house Craig pulled his coat off and hung it in its place. He turned and looked at Bobby who was removing his own coat. "Can I go up to my room?" He asked quietly.

Bobby looked at him for a long moment. "You're supposed to be with one of us at all times, remember?" He asked. "Besides, it's time for lunch. We're gonna have turkey sandwiches, don't that sound good, more fucking turkey?" He spoke sarcastically as he hung his own coat up, but he smiled, and he sounded cheerful.

Craig swallowed hard. "I'm kind of tired; can't I just go to my room? I promise I won't come out of my room until you come and get me." He tried to reason. He just needed some time to be alone. He needed to think, and get the day's memories out of his head and onto paper. He needed to get it out of his head so it wouldn't be spinning around in there confusing him.

Bobby shook his head. "No. You stay down here with us. You can help make the sandwiches." He glanced over at Angel and Jack who were walking through the door, and then he looked back at Craig. "After we eat, we need to talk."

Craig felt his body tremble from the inside. "Why?" He asked. "What about?"

"Because you need to tell us about what happened," Bobby spoke calmly. "You beat the shit out of me, and got rid of that rage, but you can't tell me you don't still feel a lot of bad stuff inside."

Craig turned away from Bobby and leaned on the banister of the stairway. Bad stuff, yeah, that was one way of describing it.

"Don't put your back to me. It's not gonna be easy, but kid that's what big brothers are for. You can tell us anything, and I'll tell you right now, it's not gonna make us love you any less." Bobby walked up to him and turned him to face him. "Come on, let's get washed up and get some food. You need to eat; you need to keep up a routine for meals." He rested his hands on the boy's shoulders and started to move him towards the kitchen.

Craig pulled away from Bobby. "I don't want to eat, and I don't want to talk about it." He was surprised at how steady his voice came out, and loud. He'd never had the nerve to tell Bobby 'no' before. He wasn't even sure where it came from. "I want to go to my room." He looked up at his oldest brother, the man that was now his guardian. He hadn't meant for it to come out sounding so angry and loud.

Bobby's expression went blank. "Listen, Craig, I love you, but if you talk to me like that again I'll slap the shit out of you."

Craig studied Bobby's face for a moment, not sure if he wanted to risk the threat. He leaned back against the banister again. "I just want to go to my room."

"I don't care what the fuck you want. You ain't going upstairs to sit alone in your fuckin' bedroom and brood about your fucking life. You're going to sit your ass down, eat something and then we are gonna talk. Just like I said we were gonna do." Bobby snatched Craig's arm up with a hard grip and gave his quick jerk towards the kitchen. "Move it."

"Ouch," Craig hadn't expected the painful grip to his arm.

Bobby walked him into the kitchen and let go of him in front of the sink. "Wash your hands." He walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door.

Craig turned on the water and started washing his hands slowly. Angel and Jack joined them in the kitchen.

As Craig finished washing his hands Angel handed him a towel before putting his own hands under the water and grabbing for the soap. "Get out the plates and the bread." He told him quietly.

Craig dried his hands and put the towel on the counter next to the sink. He walked to the cupboard and got out the plates. He walked them over to the kitchen table at the same moment Bobby walked over and set the platter of turkey pieces down. Bobby looked down at him. Craig froze for a moment as Bobby stopped next to him and looked down at him.

"Bread," Bobby reminded him before walking over to the sink to join Jack and Angel in washing his hands.

Craig walked to the other cupboard and got out the bread. He dropped the loaf on the table as his brothers finished drying their hands one at a time, each moving to gather different items and add them to the table. Bobby went back to the refrigerator and pulled out lettuce, sliced tomato and mayonnaise. Angel pulled out glasses and filled each with milk, while Jack got out a knife, sat down at the table and started building sandwiches.

Jack looked up at Craig. "I'll get the turkey on the bread, you start smearing mayo all over it." He smiled.

Craig opened the mayonnaise jar and picked up the knife. He was surprised to see his hand shaking as he started his assigned task. He didn't understand why it seemed so different being with his brothers now that he was in the house with them. He wasn't afraid of them, he was afraid of the talk Bobby wanted to have. He wasn't sure what to expect. He had truly thought Bobby would let him go to his room. Bobby had said the night before that he had to be with at least one of his brothers at all times, but he'd thought that would change now that they knew his secret. They hadn't been mad at him; in fact, they had helped him feel better. He didn't understand why it seemed to change as soon as they walked into the house. He knew it wasn't actually them either, it was him. As much as he wanted them to help, he still needed to deal with things in his own way. He needed his time alone. He hadn't expected Bobby to grab his arm like that either. He would have gone to the kitchen, though he'd been arguing about it, he wouldn't have pushed it any further.

Jack looked up at him. "Hey," He spoke quietly. "He's just worried about you." He glanced over at Bobby, who looked their way.

Craig looked up at Jack. He nodded his head just enough that Jack could see he heard him. He smeared the mayonnaise over the turkey as Jack had instructed.

Jack continued to load the turkey with lettuce and tomato while Bobby and Angel carried the glasses of milk to the dining room table. They each came back and took a plate with a sandwich as they were completed.

Craig and Jack took their own sandwiches and walked into the dining room. Angel and Bobby were both sitting at the table, but neither had started eating. Bobby stood and pulled Craig's chair out for him as if he were afraid the boy would try to sit in the wrong seat.

Craig sat down and put his plate on the table in one motion. The four of them ate in silence. Craig could feel Bobby watching him, though he didn't look up to see his stare. He took several bites of his sandwich, but it was a challenge to get it down. Each bite was a challenge.

Bobby had half of his sandwich eaten in the time Craig had managed to swallow three small bites. Angel was inhaling his lunch and Jack was close behind Angel. Craig stared at his sandwich, wishing he could get out of eating it. Bobby set his sandwich down on his plate, but didn't say anything. Craig could feel Bobby's stare burning into him. He took another small bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, letting his sandwich rest on his own plate.

"If you aren't done with that sandwich within the next five minutes I'm going to feed it to you." Bobby spoke with no warning.

Angel looked at Craig, then at Bobby. "Man, why don't you lighten up on him a little?" He spoke calmly. "He's eating."

"He ate his breakfast faster than this." Bobby leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Craig, you look at me." His voice was unreadable.

Craig looked up at Bobby. "You ain't gonna get out of talking to us by dragging out this meal. You are going to eat the sandwich, then we are gonna go into the living room and you are gonna talk to us. Now if you need help eating that sandwich, I'll sit you on my lap and help you. Do you want me to do that?" Bobby's voice was hauntingly calm and Craig knew he meant what he was saying.

Craig shook his head slowly.

"Good. Cause I really don't want to do that, but I will if I have to and you know that. You do know that, don't you?" Bobby still spoke with that calm voice.

Craig nodded his head.

"Now pick up your sandwich and eat it." Bobby didn't move back away from the table. He kept his stare on the boy, unblinking.

Craig picked up his sandwich and took another bite, forcing himself to take a larger bite than he really wanted to.

"You can chew it like a normal person." Bobby spoke when Craig started chewing slowly.

Craig chewed a little faster, and then swallowed.

"Another one," Bobby spoke as soon as that bite was down.

Craig took another bite, and started chewing. Bobby finally pulled back in his seat and continued eating his sandwich. "You keep it goin' in kid." He spoke over a mouthful of food as Craig swallowed anther bite.

With each bite Craig felt his throat tighten up just a little more. His brain was replaying the morning's events, and he was remembering how he'd seen each his brothers in such a different light in just the last couple of hours. He was trying to figure out why Bobby was suddenly being so hard on him and he didn't understand why he had to talk to them about the night of his mother's murder. He didn't want to talk about it. They knew what had happened. They had seen in with their own eyes when they watched the video. What else was there for him to tell them? He just wanted to go to his room and sketch. He wanted to be alone for a little while to sort out everything he was feeling. He could talk to them later, after he had it all figured out in his head.

As Craig pondered what was coming after the meal, he ate the whole sandwich, and was almost at a lost as to what to do when he didn't have the sandwich to occupy his hands. He sat back in his chair and let his hands rest in his lap. He looked at Bobby who still had a couple of bites left to his sandwich. His brother was still looking at him as he ate.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it sweetheart?" Bobby smiled as he chewed.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, that's disgusting." Jack stood and picked up his empty plate. He picked up Angel's plate since the man was chewing on the last of his sandwich as well. He reached over the table. "I'll take yours while I'm at it." He looked at Craig.

Craig handed Jack his plate.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Before we start our little talk do you need to take a piss?"He held the last remnants of his sandwich in his left hand and handed Jack his empty plate with his right.

Craig nodded his head. He did have to go, but it would also be another chance to delay the 'talk' Bobby had planned and maybe find a way to get out of it. He stood and Bobby rose as well, putting the last of his sandwich in his mouth. Craig started to walk through the living room, towards the foyer. His steps were quick, not wanting Bobby right on his ass. He half thought he might be able to duck into his room once they reached the top of the stairs, and lock Bobby out before he caught him. Bobby picked up his steps when he realized the boy was gaining some distance on him and snatched up his arm the same as he had earlier. "I don't know what you're thinking of doing, but it's not happening." He spoke in a normal voice and continued to pull the younger Mercer up the steps to the rest room. He let go of Craig once they were in the room, and he had shut the door.

Craig walked over to the toilet and started to undo his jeans. He stopped, frozen with his hands on the zipper. His brother was standing there watching him, and although it hadn't bothered him before, for some reason it bothered him now. His brother knew what Stanley had done to him. He knew what Craig would have let him do to him if it has continued and for some reason that made a difference at that moment.

Bobby sighed heavily. "I'll turn around." He spoke quietly and turned to face the door.

Craig pulled his jeans down just enough to do what he needed. He pulled them up quickly when he was done and flushed the toilet. He moved to the sink to wash his hands, as Bobby turned around to look at him. He glanced at Bobby but didn't try to say anything. He turned off the water and grabbed the towel. He looked at Bobby again, and thought that maybe he could retry reasoning his way out of Bobby's little 'talk'. But the memory of Bobby's grip on his arm after the first attempt made him question that approach. He swallowed hard and tried to decide which would be worse, Bobby being pissed off at him, or for his brothers to question him about that night in the store. At that moment having to re-live those moments again seemed a thousand times worse than anything Bobby could do to him. He felt exhausted, and confused, and he just wanted to be left alone for a little while so that he could deal with it his own way, no matter what Bobby might say. He swallowed back at the fear that was trying to stop him and drew in a deep breath. "Bobby, why can't…" He started to speak, but Bobby interrupted him.

Bobby shook his head and pulled the door opened. "Shut up Craig." He stood there as if waiting for the boy to walk over to him.

Craig didn't move. "But I…" He started again.

Again Bobby cut off his words. "Don't try to get out of this. It's not gonna be as bad as you think. You will sit down there and talk to us. You'll answer our questions and you will feel a hell of a lot better when it's over."

"No I won't!" Craig cried out, his voice came out angry. "You can't tell me how to feel, and you sure as hell can't make me talk about something I don't want to talk about!" He realized he yelled the last part of his statement.

Bobby's eyes narrowed down on him, and suddenly the boy thought that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "I just want to go to my room Bobby. Why is that so bad?" He asked the question with a bit of a weaker voice. "I'm tired."

Bobby stared at him without saying a word, pulling in deep breaths, and letting them out slowly, blowing through is mouth. He looked like he was concentrating very hard on something.

Bobby's silence made Craig go on, "You get all pissed off at me if I don't sleep as much as you think I should, but when I tell you I'm tired and want to lie down you still get pissed off at me." He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't have to talk about it right now. I want to forget about it for a while." He was waiting for a reaction from Bobby, but the man still stood there, giving him that stare. "I can talk later, why can't I go to my room?" He repeated the question, his voice loud again.

Bobby was moving towards him instantly, grabbing his left arm and pulling up his sleeve, "Because I'm not giving you a chance to do this again." He spoke loud as he exposed the bandage he'd so carefully applied in the middle of the night. "Because I'm not gonna give you a chance to bottle all of that shit up again and keep having nightmares and not eat. That's why. You think you know what's best for yourself? Hell, you let that shit eat you up inside for almost a full fucking week and we could have helped. Ma would have made you talk, and she would have done all she could to make sure you felt safe. I'm gonna make sure you feel safe, if I have to force it on you, then fine! You had your little tantrum. You beat the shit out of me, remember? Now you are going to show me some respect, and do this." He had his face down in Craig's, and he looked frustrated.

"But I can't." Craig kept his eyes fixed on Bobby's; wishing the man could see that what he was expecting was too hard for him. His voice quivered slightly.

Bobby nodded his head. "Yes you can. You are far more capable than you give yourself credit for."

Craig was taken at a loss for words. He swallowed hard. He had never had to talk about the bad things in his life before; he'd always used his sketch pad. That was how he had always relayed details about what he'd seen and what had been done to him. That's what he needed to do now. He needed to get it on paper where it couldn't hurt him.

Bobby pulled Craig's shirt sleeve back down and took hold of his arm. "Let's go." He pulled him out of the rest room and down the stairs. When they got to the bottom of the steps the front door opened and Jack walked in wearing his coat, his cigarettes in his hand. He stuffed the cigarettes into his coat before pulling it off. Angel was in the living room with the remote control in his hand, flipping through television stations.

Craig wondered if the day could get any worse.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Four Brothers, and I do not profit in any way from this, (except for the kind reviews!)

Thanks to all who who have been reading!

**_Chapter 15: Can We Talk?_**

Bobby pulled Craig into the living room and pushed him down into the chair next to the record player. "Don't you dare move," He warned as he stepped over and grabbed the coffee table. He slid the table closer to the chair before picking some magazines up off of it and tossing them onto the couch. Angel stood and pulled his chair over, then sat back down, effectively blocking any escape to Craig's right. Bobby looked at Jack as he walked into the living room. "Help me turn this." He motioned to the table. The two of them angled the table so that each end met up to the sides of both chairs. Bobby sat down on the end of the table closest to Craig, Jack sat next to him. The effect trapped the boy in the chair, and left him feeling a bit crowded.

Bobby reached out and rested a hand on Craig's knee. "It's gonna be okay Craig." He spoke more calmly than before. "I know you're scared to tell us what happened, but you need to."

"You seen it yourself, why do I have to tell you." Craig muttered, looking down at his hands.

"I already told you why." Bobby leaned forward. "Let's start with you thinking we would blame you for anything that went on in that store." His voice fell to a quiet level.

Craig swallowed hard and turned his head to his right, looking past Angel and fixing his gaze on the door way to the dining room.

"Hey, you look at us." Bobby didn't sound angry. He gave Craig's knee an easy tap.

Craig didn't turn to look at any of them. He concentrated on a small nick in the door frame. It had been there for years, he'd noticed it before, but he'd never really looked at it.

"Craig, you'd better be turning your head back this way." Angel was the one who spoke.

Craig turned his head back, but reverted back to staring at his hands in his lap.

"You wouldn't talk about the shooting before because you thought we would blame you for not stopping it. You thought we'd blame you somehow for what that sick fucker tried to do to you." Bobby commented. "Okay, you know we don't blame you, so why won't you at least try now? Huh? What are you afraid of now?"

Craig shook his head slowly. "Nothing," It wasn't a lie, he wasn't really afraid of it now. He didn't know how to put his feelings into words. Remembering what had happened brought back the fear from that night, but he understood that his brothers didn't blame him. The only thing nagging at him was Stanley's words. His voice in his ear while he held him down, his hand gripping him, saying that he'd heard from a good source that he was good fuck. All he could hope for was that his brothers would give up on this little talk if he didn't answer their questions. If he answered their questions he might slip up and tell them about that one statement that gave away the fact that it wasn't the first time someone had done that to him. If he let that slip then they might change their mind about blaming him. He couldn't chance that. He couldn't stand the thought of his brothers looking at him like that. He'd tried so hard for so long to get them to like him, and now it seemed like they did, and he couldn't lose that. If they found out that he'd been the reason for his real mother dying, they might realize that it was indeed his fault that his adoptive mother was dead now as well. The more his mind thought about all of it the less sense it made to him and at the same seemed reasonable.

"Come on Craig, be honest with us. You were blaming yourself, weren't you?" Jack spoke quietly, breaking the tense silence.

Craig didn't respond.

"You were blaming yourself, thinking that you should have had more control. You didn't have any control over anything that night. You didn't have a choice about going to the store, because Mom took you. You didn't have any control over those guys walking in there with guns and shooting that guy behind the counter." Jack would have said more, but Craig interupted him.

"Samir," Craig muttered, not liking the fact that Jack had called Samir 'that guy'.

"What?" Bobby pulled his hand off of Craig's knee and leaned forward slightly. "You've got to speak up kid. I sure as hell know you can talk louder than that. You've raised your voice enough today to make up for being so quiet the past seven years,"

Craig felt irritated with Bobby for being an ass right then. He looked at the man. "His name was Samir." He spoke louder than he needed to.

"Fine, his name was Samir. Knowing his name doesn't bring him back to life. He was still a guy behind the fucking counter at the wrong time. It wasn't his fault he was working that night, and it wasn't your fault that he's fucking dead now." Bobby's voice rose in volume as well. "What the hell; do I need to piss you off to make you talk to me?" He cried out. "I don't want to piss you off; I don't want to get pissed at you. But you are gonna start talking one way or another."

Craig dropped his head and focused on his hands again. He could feel his insides turning to jelly and his heart was starting to thump hard in his chest.

"Just for the record, this morning was a once in a life time incident. You don't get to scream at any of us like that again without goin' over someone's knee and getting your ass cracked hard. You got that? Seems you might have it in your head that since we let you hit and yell at us this morning that you can start taking an attitude with us. Not gonna happen. If Bobby doesn't put an end to it, I will." Angel leaned forward in his chair and smacked the boy's right leg hard enough to cause it to sting. "Look at us, right now."

Craig flinched and pulled his leg away from Angel's strike. He looked at him, surprised that he had smacked him. He absent mindedly rubbed at his stinging leg and for the first time since he'd freaked out on them that morning he felt tears trying to sting his eyes.

Angel smiled, but it didn't quiet spread as far as it usually did. "Now I believe we have your attention." He sat back in his chair.

"How's about we start over." Bobby looked at Angel, Jack and then back at Craig, his voice was still tight.

Craig looked at Bobby, carefully controlling his breathing to keep it steady.

"What went on with that kid in the store, when you and Ma first went in?" Bobby asked the question quickly.

Craig stared at Bobby. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and started to look down at his hands again. He no sooner had dropped his gaze when Angel's hand was making a stinging contact on his leg again, in nearly the same spot as before.

"Keep the eyes up." Angel's voice was smooth and steady. He didn't sound angry, but the warning was in his eyes.

Craig rested back against the chair and swallowed hard, holding onto his stinging leg with his right hand as he looked up at Angel.

"Craig? The store, the kid," Bobby spoke quickly. "What was that about?"

Craig looked at Bobby. "Mom caught Darnell stealing a piece of candy out of the tub." He muttered.

Jack laughed. "Shit," He looked at Angel. "I can imagine how that went down." He looked back to Craig.

Craig averted his gaze from Bobby to the desk behind the man. His eyes were up, but he wasn't looking at his brother. He prayed Angel didn't smack him again.

It was Bobby who reached out and smacked his left leg that time. "Don't be looking back there. Look right here." He pointed to his own face.

Craig grabbed his leg and looked at Bobby. He was surprised that Bobby's smack was actually harder than Angel's. Tears instantly welled up in his eyes.

Bobby closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Jesus, this isn't what I wanted." He stood and leaned over the chair, resting a hand on each arm of the chair for support. "Kid, I don't want you afraid of us. Are you afraid of us?"

Craig had no choice but to look at Bobby. "No." he answered honestly. He wasn't afraid of his brothers hurting him. He was afraid of the fact that they could make him talk if they kept at him long enough. He knew that. He knew they could make him tell them what they wanted to know, and he was afraid of speaking about that night in the store. He was afraid of this turning into a new talk about where Stanley had heard about him. He couldn't stand the thought of his brothers knowing this wasn't the first time he'd been used in that way. First it had been his real mother who paid for it, dying at the hands of his father. He didn't want them to know that his own father had done the same to him. His father had told him how it was all his fault that first time, and although he wanted to believe his brothers now when they said it wasn't his fault, what had happened to his second mother, he couldn't help but feel that guilt trying to build back up inside of him.

"This morning, when we caught up with you, you talked then. When you were done, how did you feel?" Bobby asked.

Craig swallowed hard.

"Well?" Bobby asked. "After you hit on me, put bruises on me, how did you feel? Because I got the impression that you felt a damn sight better. You did, didn't you?"

Craig nodded his head slightly.

"And you know we don't blame you. Hell, if you had done anything different we wouldn't have you here right now. You know that, don't you? And that would have killed us. Losing Ma was bad enough. We couldn't have handled losing both of you." Bobby drew in a deep breath. "I know that for certain. So that means you are afraid of talking about that son of a bitch that pulled down your pants and tried to butt fuck you." His voice seemed to grow calm. "Kid, that's one of the most important parts of this talk. Cause I need to know who that fucker was."

Craig felt his gut turn to ice and he tried to turn his face away from Bobby's not wanting to look at his eyes.

Bobby's hand left hand shot up from the arm of the chair and rested on Craig's right cheek, giving him a slight push, just enough that the boy had to turn his head back up to face him.

Craig flinched when the hand made contact, expecting the stinging sensation he'd felt in his leg.

"Don't flinch from me, I'm not gonna hurt you. If you have a reason to flinch, you won't have the chance to before you feel my hand." Bobby didn't pull his hand down. "You recognized that name Mr. Sweat Pants gave us, didn't you?"

Craig swallowed hard.

"Stanley?" Jack seemed surprised.

Bobby turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on the boy. "Answer me." His voice was calmer now.

Craig opened his mouth, but again, his voice wouldn't work.

"Who is he Craig, who is Stanley?"Bobby's voice lowered more and he was speaking slow and steady. It made it harder for Craig not to answer him. He was talking more like he had earlier that day, in the back of Jeremiah's Volvo, when he'd asked him if he could handle going back to the store.

Craig felt his own arms snake around his stomach. He hugged onto himself hard and just stared at Bobby. He suddenly ached for Bobby to hold him the same as he had in the back of Jerry's car.

"Is he from our neighborhood?" Bobby asked. "Someone you see every day?"

Craig opened his mouth and words came out, but they were words that he hadn't even realized he was going to say. "When can I go to my room?" He asked quietly.

Bobby stared at him. "You are one hard headed little shit." He cracked a smile. "You are not going to your room." He pulled his hand away from Craig's cheek long enough to look at his watch. "It's quarter to one. We have eight hours to kill. I can do this all fuckin' day. What about you? Are you up to this for a full eight hours?" He didn't yell, he still used the calm voice.

"I just want to go to my room Bobby." Craig felt a tear slip down his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away. "I'm tired."

"Who is Stanley?" Bobby asked again. "Like I said, I can do this all fucking day."

Craig drew in a shaky breath. "Stanley Miller," He spoke quietly.

Bobby looked surprised by the boy's words. "Miller," He repeated Stanley's last name and looked back at Angel.

Angel sat up in his chair. "Stanley Miller, Tony Miller's brother?" He asked, sounding surprised.

Craig nodded his head slowly, wishing he didn't have to look at Bobby's surprised expression right then.

Bobby stared at Craig for a long moment. "Has he ever done anything like that to you before?" He sounded concerned.

Craig shook his head slowly.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't start that please? Talk, don't shake your head." He didn't sound angry. "Now, has he ever touched you before?"

"No." Craig muttered.

Bobby looked relieved. "Then why was it so hard for you to tell us his name?"

"He's Anthony's brother." Craig muttered.

"So you think you need to protect him?" Jack sounded confused.

"No, it's just…" Craig looked right at Bobby. "Anthony has to live with him." He muttered. "And, if he did that to me, then he's done it before, and Anthony hates him, he always has…" He couldn't quiet find the right words to say what he was wanting to.

Bobby nodded his head. "I get the idea." He spoke quietly. "Don't worry, after tonight, he's not gonna touch another kid." He drew in a deep breath. "You can't keep secrets from us Craig. You've gotta trust your brothers. It's a two way street here. We can't trust you right now, because you don't trust us. That's why you can't go to your room by yourself. You understand that? When you trust us enough to come to us and tell us this kind of shit on your own, then you can stop being glued to one of us at all times."

"I do trust you." Craig tried to argue.

"No, you don't." Bobby shook his head. "You won't talk to us without us having to pry shit out of you." Bobby pulled back from him and sat down on the coffee table.

"I don't know how." Craig muttered, pulling his gaze down to his lap.

"You talked to Mom." Jack commented.

Craig shook his head. "Not really. I didn't have to." He admitted.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "After that kid left the store, where did you go?" He asked.

Craig concentrated on taking in air for a few moments before looking up at Bobby. "I went to the restroom." He answered.

Bobby nodded his head. "And while you were in the back these two fuckers came in and pulled their guns on, Samir." He made a point to use the clerk's name. "They robbed him, and killed him. You knew him pretty well?" He asked. 

Craig sniffed back at the few tears that had threatened earlier. "He's been working there for a few months." He kept his gaze on Bobby. "We saw him nearly every day. He was nice."

"And that's why he let you go to the back, because he knew you and Ma." Angel nodded his head.

"And then they went after Ma, just as you were coming back out." Bobby commented. "Did you hear the gun fire from when they shot your friend?"

The pictures of that night flashed in Craig's mind."I don't know." He muttered.

"What happened next?" Bobby pushed.

Craig stared at Bobby.

"Come on, I know we seen the video, but I want to hear what you seen. I want to hear it in your words." Bobby pushed.

"Why?" Craig asked.

"Because there might be something that one of them said that could help us figure out who hired them." Angel was the one who spoke.

Craig searched his memory. "The only one that really said anything, that I heard, was Stanley." There was a tremor to his voice when he spoke.

Bobby glanced at Angel. "What exactly did he say?"

Craig shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. "I don't know Bobby." He barely got the words out. He didn't want to have to repeat it again. He'd already told them once, didn't he? He'd told them when Bobby had him pinned down in the snow. He hadn't told them all of it, but they didn't need to know that last statement from Stanley.

"You said it once, you can say it again. Don't tell me you don't remember. You do remember." Bobby leaned forward. "Open your fuckin' eyes and look at me, right now." He didn't sound as calm as he had before.

Craig opened his eyes, but he couldn't quite get his self to look at Bobby. He turned his head to his left, trying to find something else to concentrate on.

"At me Craig," Bobby spoke quickly.

Craig slid his gaze to Bobby.

"Now, don't lie to me again. You told me once what he said. You can tell me again." Bobby held his finger up and pointed it at Craig as if to punctuate how serious he was. "I'm doing my best to stay patient with you. I know this is hard, and I don't want to make it harder. But you gotta talk to us. Keep lying and I'm gonna do just what Angel suggested and put you over my knee."

Craig swallowed hard. "It gets mixed up in my head Bobby and I can't sort it out." He spoke quietly. "I'm not lying." He prayed Bobby would believe that. It wasn't a complete lie. The whole day's events were swimming around in his head.

Bobby nodded his head. "That could be, but will getting your ass whipped on help to straighten it out? Cause it was straight enough earlier when you was screaming it at us out in public." He pointed out.

Craig shook his head. "Bobby, I swear, I'm not sure now what he said." He felt the same tremor to his voice. He was lying, and he knew Bobby could tell, but he couldn't do this, he couldn't talk about Stanley, or what he'd done and said to him. He couldn't handle talking about the shooting, or anything else that happened that night. He was afraid he would slip and tell his brothers that Stanley said he'd heard from a good source that he was a good fuck, which would lead to more questions that he could never bring himself to answer. He kept his eyes on Bobby, and knew by the look in his eyes that the conversation was about to go in a different direction.


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks to all who keep saying those nice things in the reiveiws! Just a note to some of you, be patient, all of the things that you think should happen probably will with time :)

Disclaimer still counts for this one!

* * *

**_Chapter 16: Talking Mercer Style_**

There was a long moment of silence as Craig and Bobby stared at each other.

Bobby drew in a deep breath as he stood. "Angel, give me your big ass belt." He spoke quietly.

Angel stood and started to unbuckle his belt. Craig looked over and seen Angel pulling off the wide leather. He shook his head slowly. "Bobby, please?" He turned back to Bobby.

"I want you to take a good long look at me Craig. I'm not pissed off, and I'm not gonna beat on you. I'm gonna burn your ass good though. You're gonna get one that you're gonna feel for a fucking week. Then we're gonna sit here and try this again. If you don't talk after the first one, you're gonna get another one." Bobby's voice was quiet. "I don't want to do this. Tell me what good ole Stanley said to you when he shoved his gun in your face and walked you behind that damn meat counter."

Craig stared up at his brother and opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

Angel held out his belt at that moment and it hung in front of Craig's face for a moment before Bobby took a hold of it and looped it once. "Stand up Craig."

Craig couldn't move. "Bobby, please?" His voice came out weak.

Bobby stared at him. "Okay, one last chance." He nodded his head. "What did that piece of shit say?"

Craig stared at the belt. "He said I was lucky, that I wasn't supposed to be there." He muttered. He couldn't look away from the belt.

"Keep going." Bobby didn't sit, but he kept the belt up, where Craig could see it.

Craig drew in a shaky breath. "He laughed." The memory of the man's laugh pierced his thoughts and he squeezed his eyes closed. "He smelled like whiskey."

Bobby's left eyebrow raised and he looked over at Angel, then to Jack. "Well that's a new detail you left out earlier." He commented as he returned his attention to Craig. "Maybe this belt is helping out more than I realized it would, and I haven't even used it yet."

Craig shook his head, "Bobby, it's all mixed up, I can't sort it out." He cried out as he opened his eyes to see the belt.

"Okay, that's fine, let's see if we can shake it back into order for you." Bobby reached down, grabbed hold of the boy's arm, and pulled him to his feet. He wrapped his left arm around Craig's stomach from the back, forcing him to bend over, and swung the belt down hard on his ass.

It all happened so fast that Craig didn't have a chance to react until the stinging hit his butt cheeks. He cried out and tried to swing his right hand up to block any more strikes from the belt, but couldn't reach around the arm holding him. "Bobby!" He cried out.

"Did that bring anything back?" Bobby asked the question calmly. "That's just one swat kid, and I didn't put anything into that one. You want me to keep going?"

Craig let some tears fall, the belt hurt worse than he'd thought it would. "He said he'd wanted to do that for a long time." He choked out the words.

"What else?" Bobby asked.

"That's it." Craig tried to stand himself up, tried to pull away from Bobby. He didn't want that belt to hit him again.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bobby tightened his old on the boy, pushing him back down, and then swung the belt down with a hard 'crack'. "If I sit down and put you over my knee this is gonna hurt worse, don't push me."

Craig stopped struggling, not wanting anymore of that belt. Tears slipped out, but he held back the sobs.

"What else did he say?" Bobby asked.

"That was it. He laughed about it. The other guy told him to stop the bullshit, and he let go of me." Craig prayed Bobby couldn't tell it was a lie. He squeezed his eyes closed. "Bobby, I swear, that was all he said."

Bobby looked at Angel, a questioning look on his face, as if he wasn't sure if he should believe the boy bent over in front of him, and wanted someone else's opinion.

Angel shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Jack shook his head. "I think you scared it all out of him Bobby." He looked uncomfortable with Bobby holding the boy in his present position with a belt in his hand.

Bobby gave Jack a quick look, "Is that really it Craig? Is there more? Because if I find out later there is more, I will make it impossible for you to sit for a fuckin' month. You understand?" He spoke slowly.

"That was all he said." Craig cried out.

Bobby pulled the boy up and sat him back in the chair. "So why was it so hard to tell us that?" He looked skeptical. "You told us that earlier, so why would that be so hard to say again?"

Craig looked up at Bobby. "I don't know." He spoke the words quietly.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and handed Angel his belt. "Yes you do." He took his place back on the coffee table. "Don't think I won't get that belt back from Angel." He pointed to Angel who was putting his belt back on.

Craig glanced over to the belt then looked back at Bobby. "It just doesn't feel right to say it." He spoke weakly.

Bobby nodded his head. "But when you do say it, it feels better don't it?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "No."He reached up to wipe the tears from his face.

Bobby looked as if he were thinking hard. "What made you feel better earlier? Hitting on me?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "I'm sorry about that." He muttered.

"I'm not looking for an apology. I told you to fucking hit me." Bobby spoke quickly. "Did that make you feel better?"

Craig drew in a shaky breath. "Some." He admitted. "I couldn't stop it from coming out, and once it was out the pressure was gone." He muttered.

"Okay, now listen close. If you had talked to us before, do you think that pressure would have gotten that bad?" He asked.

Craig looked right into Bobby's eyes. "Yes." He spoke honestly.

Bobby shook his head. "Then what was it that made you feel better? You started acting a hell of a lot different after that. Right up until we got home, there was complete change in you. So what was it that made you feel better?"

"You acted different." Craig looked down at his hands. His ass was still stinging from the hits from the belt.

"What?" Angel asked. "Kid, you were the one who walked through that door and asked to go 'hole up' your room. "

Craig rested his head back. "I'm tired." He muttered. "It's like it drained all the energy from me when it came out." He stared at the ceiling. "And then, everything else, it just made me tired." He closed his eyes.

Angel sighed. "Yeah, I guess hangin' with your big brothers would be a bit much, you ain't used to any of that." He looked at Bobby.

Bobby nodded his head. "You got any thoughts about the shit you seen us do?" He asked the question carefully.

Craig didn't answer. He wasn't sure how to answer the question.

"He was afraid you were gonna let Keenan's brother die." Jack informed.

Bobby looked at Craig. "Kid, listen to me, we put a good show, but if we can possibly help it, that's what we keep it at, a good show." He spoke carefully.

"Yeah, that's why you go and pull a fucking gun every time you meet new people." Angel spoke to Bobby and laughed.

Bobby looked at Angel and smiled. "Yeah, well you need the right props for a good show." He looked back at Craig. "Listen, if you really are that tired, then you can lay down on the couch, right here, with us. I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to grab a nap, you are gonna be up late tonight."

Craig opened his eyes and looked at Bobby, not understanding the meaning of his words.

"You're going with us tonight to find Stanley and his friend." Bobby told him. "You think we were dangerous today, wait 'till tonight. These guys killed Ma, and they fucked you up good, not just by what Stanley did, but they've put scars up in that head of yours that are gonna take a while to heal. They are gonna pay for that. They are gonna get what they deserve, and they ain't ever gonna hurt no one else again. You got my word on that."

Craig swallowed hard. "Cant' I stay at Jerry's?" he asked.

Bobby stared at him for along moment. "You are going with us."

Angel laughed. "I already suggested that one kid. He's set on you going. Don't worry; we won't let anything happen to you."

"Okay, I guess we've talked enough for now. If you really are that tired, then you can get on the couch and take a nap. Your big brothers have some things we need to work out and we need to have our own little talk." Bobby motioned to Jack and Angel, "So I want you on the couch, and you aren't to move."

Craig swallowed hard and decided to chance asking to go to his room again. "Can't I go sleep in my own bed?" He asked weakly.

"It's either the couch or we keep talking." Bobby stood and reached his hand out for Craig to take a hold of.

Craig let Bobby pull him to his feet, and was surprised when Bobby put his arms around him. "You remember one thing. No matter what you see us do or hear us say, you are our baby brother and we love the hell out of you." Bobby spoke quietly to him. "You know that, don't you?"

Craig hugged Bobby back, nodding his head before letting it rest on the man's shoulder. "I love you too." He said the words before he realized it.

"Okay, lay down on the couch. Kick off your shoes and take a nap." Bobby let go of him.

Craig looked at Bobby, his mouth opened to ask again if he could go to his room, but the man gave him a warning stare.

"Can I get something from my room?" Craig asked weakly.

"There's something in your room that you want?" Bobby asked, seemingly surprised by the question.

Craig nodded his head.

Bobby's head leaned to the side. "You wanted to get this earlier?" He asked.

Craig drew in a deep breath."Kind of,"

"Well then why didn't you just ask if you could get it? What do you want; I'll go get it for you." Bobby looked skeptical.

Craig wasn't sure if he wanted Bobby getting his pad for him. What if he looked in it? He couldn't handle it if he looked in it. The last picture he'd drawn wasn't clear in his mind, he wasn't sure what it has been, but it had caused his left arm to itch.

"Craig?" Bobby asked.

"Why can't I go get it?" He asked weakly.

"If you want it, you'll tell me what it is." Bobby crossed his arms at his chest and waited.

"My sketchpad," Craig answered.

Again Bobby looked surprised. "Really, you feel like drawing pictures all of a sudden? I thought you were tired."

"I am, I just…" Craig drew in a deep breath. "I would feel better if it was down here." He knew it sounded stupid. "And I can draw when I wake up."

"Where is it?" Bobby nodded his head slightly.

"Under my mattress," Craig answered.

"Okay, you go lay down." Bobby pointed to the couch. "I'll go and get it for you."

"You won't look in it, will you?" Craig asked quickly.

"Something in there you don't want me to see?" Bobby asked.

"It's kind of private." Craig thought that sounded reasonable. "That's all."

"Is there more naked ladies?" Angel smiled as he stood and swatted at Jack to get him to stand. He motioned for Jack to help him move the table back its normal place in front of the couch while picking the magazines up off of the couch and placing them on the table.

Craig didn't look back at Angel; he kept his eyes on Bobby.

Bobby gave him a small smile. "I won't look at it. I promise. Now you go lay down." He remained calm.

Craig let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and moved past Angel and Jack to the couch. He sat down and pulled off his shoes before laying down on his right side, facing the room.

"I'll bring your pillow down too." Bobby turned and headed up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Craig watched Angel move his chair back in front of the fireplace, and Jack pick his shoes up off of the floor and walk them to the foyer, dropping them on the floor next to the wall, under the rack holding their coats. He could see the stairs from where he was laying, and he watched for Bobby to come back down them. He kept a mental timer running, feeling anxious about trusting his brother to get his pad of sketches for him.

Angel turned on the television, and sat back down in his chair. Jack went up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Bobby came back down the steps in the right amount of time Craig had figured it would take. He walked into the living room carrying Craig's sketch pad in one hand and the pillow from his bed in under his free arm. "Here you go." Bobby laid the pad on the coffee table and held up the pillow. "Raise your head." He instructed.

Craig raised his head, and reached over to pick up his sketch pad.

"You said you just wanted it down here." Bobby swatted his hand back and dropped the pillow on the couch. "You wanted to sleep remember?"

Craig looked up at Bobby while he pulled his hand back.

Bobby pulled the afghan down from the back of the couch and dropped it over the boy. "When you wake up you can draw all you fuckin' want to." He moved to the end of the couch. "Pull you legs up and give me some room."

Craig pulled his knees up just in time as Bobby sat down.

Bobby adjusted the throw pillows so that he was laying up against them for support. He looked at Angel. "Is there a game on?" He asked.

"I'm looking." Angel was still flipping through the stations. "It doesn't look like there is damn thing on." He remarked.

Bobby laughed. "Give it to me." He reached his hand out.

Angel looked at him and laughed. "Like you're gonna start flipping through the same stations as me, and find a game when I can't."

"Just give."Bobby motioned with his hand.

Angel tossed the remote over to Bobby.

About that time the sound of Jack's guitar playing drifted down the stairs. Craig looked at his sketch pad one last time and closed his eyes. The day's events were still vivid in his mind and he couldn't seem to turn any of it off. He forced himself to concentrate on the sound of Jack's guitar. The rhythm was slow, and the melody calming. He let his mind wrap around the notes and they seemed to pull him into a peaceful slumber. He relaxed and let out a long breath, which seemed to bring on a yawn in his last moment of consciousness. He felt himself floating with the music, and a vision of his mother seemed to come into focus in front of him. He reached out to her, but it seemed as he couldn't touch her. He tried to move closer, but no matter how close he got to her she seemed to move further away. He was starting to feel frustrated with the fact that he couldn't touch her. He needed to feel her. Then he heard her voice. "Craig, do you need to tell me something son?" Her voice sounded firm, but a small smile creased her lips. He shook his head, no understanding what she meant. "I think you do. Think on it a little bit dear, and you'll know what I'm talking about." She looked as if she were waiting for him to answer. He shook his head again, confused, unsure what his mother wanted. He tried to move near her again, but she was starting to fade. "Mom," called out to her. "Where are you going?" He called and tried to run towards her, tried to grab her before she disappeared, but she was gone, and he was trying to find her. He wasn't afraid. There was nothing but darkness around him, and he was searching hard for Evelyn, he wanted to hear her voice again and wanting to feel her touch. He wanted her to make everything better, like she always did.


	17. Chapter 17

Again, thanks for the reviews and your thoughts, I appreciate them! Thought I'd get this one up tonight-I'm going to be moving over the next few days and don't know how often I'll get to update this (But I'll do my best)

Disclaimer still counts :)

* * *

**_Chapter 17: First Steps_**

"Come on Craig, time to wake up." Bobby's voice echoed through the darkness.

Craig opened his eyes, and his vision was blurred. He blinked hard and opened them again, to find himself looking up at Bobby. He could feel hands gripping his shoulders. He turned his head and looked at the dining room table next to him. He still felt as if he were asleep.

Bobby let go of his left shoulder and reached up to turn Craig's face towards him. "Are you awake?" He asked. He looked as if he were amused.

Craig nodded his head and looked the other direction to see the kitchen. "What happened?" He was confused. He hadn't had a nightmare. He'd been dreaming, but he hadn't had 'the' night mare that normally caused him to walk in his sleep. He looked back to Bobby.

"You got up from the couch and walked into the hall, through the kitchen, and then stopped right here and just stood here." Bobby did laugh that time. "You had a dream?"

Craig nodded his head, "Yeah."

"I can assume it wasn't a nightmare?" Bobby asked.

Craig shook his head. "No."

"You feel like going back to sleep?" Bobby asked. "You were only out for about thirty minutes."

Craig thought about it for a moment. "Sure." He shrugged his shoulders, but didn't move. He just stared at Bobby.

"Okay, the living room is behind you, remember?" Bobby turned the boy and carefully walked him back to the couch.

Angel was sitting up in his chair, watching them. Craig laid down on the couch, closed his eyes and was back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Angel looked at Bobby. "Did he know where the hell he was going?" He asked quietly.

"Shit, he didn't know where the hell he was." Bobby returned to his seat, moving Craig's legs enough to sit. "I doubt he'll even remember that when he wakes up." He laughed.

"That's a damn sight better than him kicking and screaming." Angel grinned.

Bobby glanced down at the sketch pad that lay on the coffee table. "You don't know how bad I want to open that fucker right now." He muttered.

Angel drew in a deep breath when he realized what Bobby was looking out. "Then open it." He nodded toward the thick book of paper.

"Nah, man, can't do that." Bobby shook his head, but drew in a frustrated breath, almost stiffing as he did.

"Why the fuck not," Angel kept his voice quiet. "He will never know if you do."

"I'll know." Bobby hugged onto a throw pillow and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Next time you see me close to promising him not to snoop in his shit smack me upside the head." He muttered. "I fucking promised him I wouldn't look in that sketch book, and I'm not gonna look in that sketchbook."

Angel laughed. "Yep, you put both feet in it didn't you?"

Jack appeared at the doorway. "I'm going out front for a smoke." He announced.

"Okay sweetheart." Bobby looked at Jack. "Just can't get enough of that sucking action, huh?" He laughed.

Jack looked at Bobby, "Fuck you." He pulled on his coat.

"No thanks Jackie girl, this Mercer don't swing that way." He called.

Jack turned and walked out of the house.

Angel waited until Jack was gone, then glanced at Craig. "You know, I didn't promise the little shit a damn thing." He looked directly at Bobby.

Bobby turned to look at Angel. It seemed as if he were going to agree to Angel's offer, but then shook his head. "He doesn't trust us Angel." He spoke quietly. "If I open that book, or let you open it, after I promised that wouldn't happen he'll never trust us. There's something else that he's not tellin' us. I could tell by the way he was talking and that fucking fear in his eyes."

"Then why did you let the talk end?" Angel asked.

"I don't know it just didn't feel right to keep pushing him right then. He was tired. Hell, I'm tired. Ain't you tired?" Bobby looked at the television. "I was afraid of it getting out of hand, and I didn't like the way it was going. I don't know how Ma did it with us. I mean she always managed to get us to do what she wanted. She could get us to talk, and tell her shit. I ain't a fuckin' father; I don't know what the hell to do with him." He spoke quietly. "Hell, I tried before, to be like his father, and screwed it up then. What the hell was ma thinking? Giving me the responsibility? You would've thought she'd know me better by now. I'm just not parent material. Now Jerry, he's a father. He should have been made this kid's guardian."

Angel sighed. "She knew what she was doing." He shook his head. "Maybe this was just her way to get you to settle the fuck down. Like you said, she always had a way of making us do what the hell she wanted us to. You're his brother, not his father, that's all you gotta be. You let him beat the shit out of you man, that's more than I would have done, no matter how much I love the little shit."

"Let's just relax while we can, and we'll deal with it when the time comes. If he doesn't come clean about whatever the hell he's keeping from us, I'll look in that sketchpad and not give a rat's ass whether he trusts us. I'll get my answers and teach him to trust us after, if it comes down to that." Bobby rested his head back on the couch, glancing over at Craig before concentrating on the television.

* * *

Craig woke slowly. He could hear the television playing; he could hear his brothers laughing at something. He opened his eyes slowly to see the back of the couch. He felt hot, and started to kick down the afghan that was covering him.

"Woe there kid, watch it." Bobby spoke loud as Craig's foot made contact with his legs.

Craig rolled onto his back, pushing the afghan down with his hands as he moved. "I gotta pee." His voice cracked with sleep and his eyes felt dry and scratchy.

"Take a minute to wake up before you stand up." Bobby leaned over and grabbed his left arm, hauling him up and turning him so that his feet dropped to the floor.

Craig rubbed at his eyes and sat back. His mind felt sluggish, and it took a few moments for it to catch up to being awake. "What time is it?" He asked weakly.

"It's almost four. You were sleeping so good we didn't have the heart to wake you up." Angel answered. "Sofi's gonna make us some spaghetti when she gets back from her Mamma's how does that sound?"

"Better than turkey," Craig muttered. He did feel a little hungry.

"Fuck yeah," Bobby laughed. "You ready to go piss?"

Craig nodded his head slowly.

"I'll take him." Angel stood. "I gotta piss myself." He motioned for Craig to stand.

When they got upstairs Craig peed while Angel stood looking at the door. When he was done he washed his hand while Angel did what he needed. "So, do you feel any better now that you've had a nap little boy?" Angel asked with a smile.

Craig dried his hands, ignoring the teasing tone to Angel's voice. "Yeah," He answered.

"Good." Angel flushed the toilet and walked over to wash his hands. "You do look better." He spoke seriously.

Craig handed Angel the towel when he turned off the water. "Do I really have to go tonight?" He asked quietly.

"Bobby's set on it." Angel looked at the boy. "Look, I think he figures if you see for yourself that this guy is history that you'll feel better."

"You're really gonna kill them?" Craig watched Angel dry his hands and then hang the towel on the rail next to the sink.

Angel looked down at the boy with a serious look on his face. "No one messes with a Mercer. These two fuckers messed with two Mercers." He shook his head. "What do you think?" He motioned for Craig to walk ahead of them as they left the restroom.

When they got back downstairs Bobby was making fun of a commercial on the television, and Jack was laughing along with him. Craig could see Sofi moving around in the kitchen as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He glanced over to see she had her cell phone cradled on one shoulder, with her head tilted to hold it in place while she carried some dishes. Angel didn't follow him all the way into the living room; he turned and headed for the kitchen, a smile on his face.

Craig sat down on the couch and picked up his sketchpad, grabbing hold of the pencil before it could fall out from between the pages. He sat with his back to the arm of the couch, his legs crossed under him, so that no one could see the pad when he opened it. He flipped through the pages slowly, looking at the sketches he'd drawn previously. There were pictures of the kids playing street hockey out front, some of them were sketches of the neighborhood kids up close, showing the amusement in their eyes, and others were drawings of the game, with the players running down the street. He felt a smile barely crease his lips as he remembered that day; his mother had made hot dogs and served them to the group gathered on the sidewalk out front. Evelyn had told him that she would never stand by and see hungry children and these children were hungry.

It seemed there was always a hungry boy or girl at the back door, wanting to come into the kitchen for food. Craig had gotten used to it. He would help his mother cook a meal and feed them. Sunday mornings had become a regular routine with Darnell and his older sister, Tamika. They would come for breakfast, because their mother was at work, and their father was passed out drunk. At first, Craig had been a little jealous of his new mother giving other kids her attention. He didn't hide the jealousy either, and when it became apparent that he wasn't going to get over it on his own, Evelyn had sat him down and explained that she couldn't turn her back on any child in need. She pointed out to him that if someone had made the effort for him, that perhaps his younger years wouldn't have been such a nightmare. She also told him that she had a very big heart, and there was room enough for all of her sons, and for the other children in the neighborhood that she wanted to help. She always seemed to have some clothes in the attic for the children that needed them. She would go to the second hand stores and purchase decent coats and boots close to the start of winter and put them in the attic. When she would see one of the children from the neighborhood in need, she would pass it off as having something in her attic from years ago, and give it to them. That way it didn't step on any one's pride, the parent or the child in need. Each season she would restock the attic with the appropriate attire and it seemed the attic stock would dwindle to just the right level to be replenished for the next season.

"So, what are you looking at?" Jack asked from his seat in the same Craig had been in during the 'talk'.

Craig had almost forgotten that Bobby and Jack were in the room.

"Nothing," He tilted his sketchpad up to ensure no one could see the drawings.

"What the fuck do you draw in that?" Bobby asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders, not looking up from the pencil etched paper in front of him.

Bobby pulled his right leg from the coffee table and swung it over to nudge the fourteen year old.

The contact drew Craig's attention to his oldest brother.

"I asked you a question. Don't fuckin' shrug at me, answer me." Bobby spoke in the casual, bossy voice that he was well known for. The tone that Craig had thought he'd heard a lot when he was smaller, but now seemed far more frequent and it seemed to always be directed at him. "Nothing," The boy muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath, "Fuck, it must be something, you were so anxious to have it." He returned his leg back to the coffee table. "Are you any good at that pencil scratching?" He asked.

Craig looked back down at the pictures in front of him. "I don't know." He turned the page to look at more of his work. A picture of a wolf howling at the moon, and then one of Jack with his guitar, sitting on the front steps, from just before he moved away. The next one was his mother, his real mother, sitting on a kitchen chair, with a needle in her arm. The next was of his father sitting on the bed that had been in their living room, drinking a beer. Next was the portrait he'd done of Jeremiah's daughters the previous Christmas. There were more, pictures of the city from different vantage points. He'd drawn pictures of farms, and horses, and streams, and mountains, and there were pictures of guns, and knives, and bloody death scenes. He came to the picture of his mother that he'd completed the evening of Thanksgiving and stared at it for a long moment, wishing he had more than that sketch to touch, he yearned to feel her embracing him.

He turned the page to the image of his four brothers skating towards him across the ice. He rubbed his finger down the edge of the picture, and then carefully eased it under the page. He looked up at Bobby, who was back to watching the television. He tugged at the page, easing it away from the binding of the pad, and closed the rest of the book to cover the last picture he had been working on so that he couldn't see it as he pulled the page above it free. He looked at the picture again, studying it, and then looked at Bobby. He wasn't sure why he felt the urge to give it to the man. He thought back to earlier that day, how Bobby had let him hit on him, and then he'd let him grab hold of him, and had made him feel like things could be alright, at least for a little while. He drew in a deep breath, and put the picture face down on the couch between him and Bobby. He felt nervous. What if Bobby thought the picture was stupid, tore it up and threw it away? What if he didn't think it was any good? Evelyn had always told him how talented he was, but he'd never shown any of his drawings to anyone else, only Evelyn. He quickly opened the sketchpad to the first clean page, again avoiding the last picture he'd drawn. He could see Bobby moving, and glanced up. Bobby was looking at him.

"Is that for me to look at?" Bobby looked surprised.

Craig nodded his head. "You can have it." He barely got the words out.

Bobby nodded his head and looked down at the paper. "You're sure?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head, though his nerves where dancing in his stomach.

Bobby's eyebrows rose slightly, and Craig knew he was waiting for a verbal response.

"Yes." The boy looked down at the blank page in front of him, but only for a moment. Without raising his head, he moved his eyes to watch Bobby pick up the page and hold it in front of him, holding his breath the whole time.

Bobby stared at the picture in his hands, then held it up in front of him and turned it so that the light from the window hit it. "Fuck." He looked over at Craig. "You did this?" He sounded shocked.

Craig nodded his head. "Yeah," He added as an afterthought.

"You, you drew this?" Bobby seemed surprised.

"Yes." Craig finally lifted his head. "What's wrong with it?" He asked.

"Wrong?" Bobby shook his head. "Hell kid, this looks like something by a real artist. You did this?" He looked at Craig again. "Jackie, look at this!"

Jack was already looking over; his interest seemed peaked by Bobby's word."Well show me already."

Bobby turned the picture so that Jack could see it. "Take a look at that."

"That's good." Jack stood and walked over to take the picture from Bobby and look at it closer.

"That is you, and Angel, and Jerry, and me." Bobby stood and stepped to stand next to Jack as he pointed each one out.

"No shit, Bobby, you sure this one ain't you?" Jack spoke sarcastically as he pointed to Jeremiah.

Bobby's lips pressed together in a frown and looked at Jack. "Very funny fairy," He took the sketch from Jack as Angel walked into the room.

Bobby walked over to Angel, "Look at this." He held the picture up. "Look, that's you." He pointed, just as he had with Jack.

Angel whistled quietly. "Damn, that's nice." He looked at Bobby, then over to Craig. "Did you do this?"

"Hell yeah he did it." Bobby spoke, sounding proud. "He gave that to me."

"That's from the other day." Jack moved back to his chair and sat down, looking over at Craig. "That is really good. You got anything else in there like that?" He asked.

Craig was surprised at the fuss his brothers seemed to be making over the picture. He hesitated, and then flipped through the pages again until he came to the picture of Jack with his guitar. He pulled it out and held it out towards him. "Here," He muttered.

Jack reached over and took the page, and sat back down as he looked at it. One hand went up to cover his mouth. "Kid, this is great." He let his hand fall back down and laughed.

Bobby and Angel both stepped over and looked down at the picture.

Bobby looked down at the boy. "What else do you have in that book?" He asked.

Craig shook his head slowly, not willing to pull any more out, and not wanting his brothers to see the other pictures.

"You don't want to show us anymore?" Angel looked disappointed.

Craig remembered what he'd said to Bobby earlier that day. "It's private." He muttered.

"That's okay; you don't have to show us." Bobby spoke seriously.

"Kid, I don't get it, where the fuck did you learn how to do this?" Angel took the sketch from Jack and looked at it closely. "This looks like an actual photograph, from a fucking camera."

Craig swallowed hard, "I don't know, I just do it."

"You just do it," Bobby laughed. "I don't understand why you are so worried about sharing this shit. You are fucking good at that pencil scratchin'." He walked over to the couch, sat back down in his seat and looked at the picture. "Thank you for this. This is very special." He spoke quietly and looked over at Craig. "So, what made you decide to give it to me?"

Craig returned his focus to the blank page in his book and shook his head. "I don't know." He didn't look up at Bobby.

Jack looked over. "Well thanks. I'll keep that forever." He motioned to the page in Angel's hand. "Do I really look like that? My arms aren't that long, are they?" He looked up at Angel.

Angel shook his head. "You have long-ass arms, and long-ass legs." He turned and walked over to the fireplace, holding the sketch up over the mantel.

Bobby laughed, "Yeah Jackie, too bad you don't have a long ass dick to go along with them arms and legs." He cracked the joke quickly.

Jack looked at Bobby. "Don't start the shit Bobby." He warned.

"Oh come one, a true boyfriend won't give a fuck about that Jackie, they'll love you anyway!" Bobby sounded serious.

"Shut the fuck up." Jack spoke with some irritation. "I'm not gay!"

Craig could feel a real argument brewing on Jack's part. He was tired of the tension he felt when he was around his brothers. And when Bobby started in on Jack it seemed the tension increased. He drew in a deep breath and flipped back to the picture of his mother. He stared at it for a few moments, and before Bobby could crack another joke at Jack, he pulled it out of the pad and held it out towards Bobby.

Bobby looked at him, and reached for the picture. He looked at it and froze. He stared at the picture for a long moment.

"You know we should frame these and hang them up somewhere." Angel turned and walked over to the wall next to the dining room door way.

Bobby looked up at Angel, then over to Craig. "That's the best one yet. Who are you giving this one to?"

Craig shook his head. "I don't know." He muttered. "I just thought…"

Bobby looked back at the picture and smiled. "Angel, I think this one needs to go up with them." He stood and walked over to the where Angel was standing with both of the sketches in his hands. He held out the sketch of Evelyn. Angel looked down at the image of his mother staring back up at him and fell completely still. Jack stood and walked over to where his brothers were standing to look. All three stared at the sketch for a long time.

Angel cleared his throat. "Yeah, we can make some frames, and put these up here." He still didn't look away from the image in his hands. "Damn." He muttered.

"Why don't we put these in a safe place for now, until we can get the frames?" Jack suggested.

"Yeah, put them in the desk." Bobby and Angel let Jack take all of the sketches. Jack walked to the desk in the corner behind the couch.

Sofi walked into the doorway at that moment. "This is ready." She announced as she took a hold of Angel's arm. "Come and eat." She smiled up at him.

For some reason Craig felt better about having given his brothers the sketches. He had found it easier than he'd expected it to be, and he wasn't sure what had initially motivated him to do pull that first page out. It was something he never thought he would do.


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, this one is kind of short, but it's been a busy day:)

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer still in effect

**_Chapter 18: The Night Begins_**

Craig had put his sketchpad in the same drawer his brothers had placed the individual sketches he'd given them. As had become the habit, Bobby dished the spaghetti onto Craig's plate, but he did let the boy add his own sauce. He found dinner easier to eat than lunch had been. He actually had an appetite. Craig knew he was being watched, but didn't really care. He ate two pieces of the garlic bread, and got himself a refill on milk. He felt good enough to be eating, and he was going to take advantage of it. Sofi sat with them, but she didn't eat as much as the men, or even Craig, she spent most of the meal talking, and Craig was sure Bobby would say something to get her going, but he only rolled his eyes and muttered a few things under his breath, to everyone's relief.

He couldn't help but think that he was lucky Bobby hadn't pushed him harder for more of what Stanley had said to him. He had dodged that bullet, at least for the time being, and he told himself didn't want to worry about it if he didn't have to. The longer he could keep it pushed to the back of his mind, the better. He knew that eventually he would have to face it, but not at that moment. His mother had always told him that he couldn't run from reality, but he seemed to always try.

Towards the end of the meal Bobby told Craig he could help Jack clean up after dinner, and then he wanted him to take a shower. Craig didn't understand the reason for the shower so early, but he didn't argue. Angel and Sofi went upstairs after the meal. Bobby pulled on his coat and said he'd back in shortly; he had to go to the car. Craig and Jack cleared the table, and started on the dishes. With both of them working on the task it didn't take long. Once the kitchen and dining room had been cleaned, and the dishes had been put away, Jack went upstairs with him. While Craig was in the shower Jack went to get him some clothes. He found black jeans, a black sweatshirt waiting for him when stepped out of the tub to dry his self off.

Jack walked him back downstairs, and told him to put on the pair of work boots Jerry had given him for his birthday, they were waiting for him with a pair of socks on the coffee table. Craig didn't understand why he couldn't wear his sneakers, he rarely wore the boots unless he was shoveling snow, or working in the yard in the warmer months. He sat on the couch and put on the socks and boots while Jack walked to the doorway of the dining room. He could hear Bobby and Angel on the other side of the doorway, and he could hear Jack joining in the conversation, but he couldn't hear the words they were saying.

Once his boots were on and tied, Craig stood long enough to get out his sketchpad. He sat back on the couch, and carefully turned to the clean page he'd stared at earlier. He hadn't even had a chance to make that first line before. He held the pencil to the paper, and the first line slid along the rough fibers, making a quiet scratching sound as it moved. He found himself forming the shape of a man standing with a basketball in his hands, poised as if he were in the middle of dribbling the ball. He didn't think about the picture taking place, he never had to really think about anything he drew until he got towards the end, and he was worried more about the details. As he became more involved with the drawing his mind blocked out any of the noises or movements around him. His mind slipped into the lines and shadows of the lead on textured paper. He fell into the memory of Bobby confronting the crowd, the ball players, and the referees that very morning. He could hear the sounds of the player's soles squeaking as they hit the wooden floor that had been finished to a mirror like shine. He could smell the wood and the perspiration of the athletes on the floor. He could feel the tension of the crowd as Bobby walked out onto the floor. He could feel Jack's arm draped over his shoulder. He started adding all of that to the sketch, lost in the moment.

"Craig!" Bobby's loud voice broke through his concentration like a needle popping a fully inflated balloon. He dropped his pencil and looked up to find Bobby standing in the middle of the room looking at him as if he were irritated about something.

"What?" Craig asked quietly, not sure what was going on. He didn't know what he could have done to upset any of them.

"I've been calling you for a full fucking minute." Bobby shook his head.

Craig swallowed hard, "I didn't hear you." He muttered.

"You didn't hear me from the next fucking room?" Bobby shook his head. "Jack went outside, and I don't want you in here by yourself. Get your ass in here with us." He pointed to the dining room. "You forget your limitations here kid, because I can remind you real fucking quick?"

Craig hadn't forgotten the new rules for him, but Jack had been right there before, and it wasn't as if his brothers couldn't see him through the double wide doorway separating the two rooms. He hadn't noticed Jack leaving, and he hadn't heard Bobby calling for him. "No, I didn't hear you." Craig answered Bobby's question as he looked down at his sketch, not wanting to close the pad.

"You can draw all you want to with your ass in here." Bobby's voice rose in volume slightly. "Move it, right now."

Craig stood, not sure why there seemed to be such a change in Bobby all of a sudden. He stepped around the coffee table with his pad and pencil in hand. As he reached Bobby the man stopped him by putting a hand on his chest. "Pay attention to me. You have to do everything I tell you tonight. There can be no 'I didn't hear you' from you tonight. I can't keep you safe if you aren't paying attention to everything I, or Angel, or Jack tells you. Do you understand that?"

Craig nodded his head slowly, "Yeah." Though it didn't make him feel any better about being yelled at while they were still at the house.

"That means you have to hear me when I talk to you, and you have to follow my instructions right down to the letter. You have to do what I say, when I say, and the way I tell you to. If you don't, you'll regret it, and not from me. If I sound mean with you at any time tonight, it's because I'm not going to have time to repeat myself or take the extra effort to get your attention." Bobby's voice seemed to soften slightly, but not by much.

"I got the message." Craig muttered. He did understand, but it only made him feel more tense about what was going to happen that night.

"Good. Come on." Bobby turned and walked into the dining room.

Craig followed, but stopped just in the doorway. Bobby and Angel had the ammunition, hand gun, and shotgun lying out on the dining room table. Angel was loading a clip with bullets. Craig scanned the scene in front of him, and his brothers' plans for that night seemed to become more real. "Are you sure I can't stay at Jerry's tonight?" He spoke before he could stop himself.

Bobby looked at him as he picked up the shot gun. "Come here." He spoke calmly.

Craig felt his head skip a beat. "What?" He looked at Bobby.

"I said come here." Bobby repeated his voice a little firmer.

Craig shook his head slowly, "Bobby, I don't…" He started to argue.

"I just got done tellin' you that you needed to what I said, when I said, no hesitations, with no arguments. Now get your ass over here. This ain't gonna bite you." He motioned to the shotgun with his free hand.

Craig put his pad and pencil down on the table. He didn't want to be that close to a gun, not in his mother's house, his home. He looked up at Bobby and swallowed hard. "I don't want to be near that thing." He muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and reached over to take a hold of the boy's arm. He pulled him over stand in front of him, facing the gun. "Now, I want you to pay attention to this. Grab hold here." He reached from behind, moving Craig's hand to the barrel of the gun, though the boy resisted. "This gun is not going to hurt you. It's a tool, and it only hurts people when it's in the hands of another person. If you know how to handle it, how to hold it, and how to safely load and unload it, it's not going to hurt you. It can be protection if you should ever need it, and you should know what to do with it." Both of Bobby's arms were around the boy, holding the gun directly in front of him. He pointed out the different parts of the weapon, explaining the function of each. He proceeded to teach the boy how to load the shells. The whole time Craig was fighting down the fear that threatened to over take him. Bobby spoke calmly the whole time, and when the lesson was over he had Craig repeat what he had told him, unloading the gun, and then loading it.

"Not bad for a first timer." Angel looked at Craig. "Don't worry, it's not like you are going to be handling any guns. " He seemed to see the worry in the boy's eyes. "But you need to know the basics. You don't need to be afraid of it."

Craig thought to himself that if Angel had been the one with a gun shoved in his face he might feel a little differently.

Bobby took the shotgun from the boy and motioned to a chair on the other side of the table. "You ain't gonna touch a gun, ever, unless I tell you to. I just want you know what they are, and how they work. That's all. Go ahead and sit down and do whatever you want to do with that drawing book."

Craig sat down at the table, watching as his brothers prepared the weapons. The two of them talked quietly between them, but the boy didn't really listen to what they were saying, he just watched as they worked with the guns. Both of his brothers would glance at him every so often. After some time Bobby cleared his throat. "I thought you wanted to draw?" He pointed to the pad and pencil on the table.

Craig looked up at Bobby and shook his head. The urge to sketch was dead for the moment. His mind was busy now worrying about what was going to take place that night; he couldn't concentrate on what had already happened that morning. Jack came back into the room, and Bobby looked at him. "Grab a phone book; let's see if we can find this Casino Restaurant. We need an address." Bobby's attention turned to Jack. "We're gonna get these out to the car." He glanced back down at Craig again, but didn't say anything to him.

Craig watched as Bobby and Angel gathered the weapons and all the prepared ammo together. Each of them put a spare clip in their jacket pocket. Jack walked into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a phone book. He sat down as Bobby and Angel walked out of the room. When Bobby and Angel returned five minutes later, they sat down at the table. Jack had found the address by then, and relayed the information to the older men.

"Okay, now listen, we're gonna walk in and look for the guy with the goatee." He looked at Craig. "You know what Stanley looks like, we don't. If you see him, you point him out. You stick to us, and you will be fine." He returned his attention to Jack and Angel. Craig sat back in his chair, and pulled his sketch pad towards him. He picked up the pencil, but couldn't really bring himself to return to his drawing. He felt his heart start to race. He thought about the night before, he had seen his brothers in a different light, doing things he could have never imagined, and that morning, when they had caught up to Damian, the man had ended up dropping from a window. Each time he went with them he seen more of what they were capable of, and he knew in his heart that they were definitely going to kill the two shooters that had taken his mother's life. Stanley Miller had been one of those shooters, and once he was dead he wouldn't have to worry about Bobby finding out that Stanley wasn't the first man to touch him the way he had. He wouldn't have to worry about Bobby finding out Stanley had heard about his father, somehow, from someone. He tried to concentrate on that. After that night, it would be over. He wouldn't have to be scared of any of it anymore.

"Jack, take Craig to the car. Give him my old coat to wear; we don't want him wearing a coat that he's known for. If for some reason we are seen by anyone, he's a kid, and he'll stick out enough as it is." Bobby stood from the table, as did Angel and the two of them walked into the kitchen.

Jack stood. "You heard him."

Craig followed Jack to the foyer, but instead of going to the rack with the coats on it, Jack opened the door of the closet and started going through it. He pulled out a black leather jacket that looked practically new. It had been Bobby's years before, the first one he'd ever owned, and he'd been proud of it. Jack held it out to Craig. "Here ya go." He shook his head. "It's too big for you, but it will keep you warm." He commented.

Craig pulled the jacket on while Jack grabbed in own coat. They went out to the car to wait for Bobby and Angel. They didn't have to wait long. Angel was wearing his black wool beanie, and Bobby was wearing a dark blue one. The club they were going to was about thirty minutes away, and the entire ride there Craig listened to his brothers talking about anything they could think of, besides where they were going and what they were planning to do. Bobby started in on Angel about Sofi being at the house, spending most of her time in his bedroom. "If she's gonna stay at the house she can damn sure do her fucking share." He looked at Angel and smiled. They all seemed to know that it was Bobby's way of accepting that Sofi wasn't leaving.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the Casino Restaurant, Craig felt his heart start to race. They were there, and it was all about to happen, but he wasn't sure what to expect.

Bobby parked the car and turned off the engine. "Well, let's get to it." He turned in his seat to look at Jack, and then at Craig. "You stick to me like glue kid." He spoke quietly. "You'll be fine."

"You don't think they're gonna stop us at the door when we try to walk in there with a little boy?" Angel looked at Bobby.

"I'm not five years old." Craig spoke defensively before he could stop himself. He was getting tired of being referred to as a little boy, or little kid. He was fourteen after all. He may not have been used to the things he'd seen, and he may not have been street smart like his brothers but he was not a small child.

Bobby laughed and looked at Angel. "We ain't given 'em the chance to stop us. We walk in and keep going." He turned and opened his car door. He raised the seat for Craig and waited for the boy to climb out of the car while Angel and Jack exited on the passenger side.

Bobby grabbed Craig's right arm and pulled his hand up to his belt. "Same drill as last night. You hold onto that fuckin' belt." He instructed quickly.

Craig looked up at the building as the approached it. Part of him didn't want to go in to see what his brothers did, and another part of him told him that this was going to be the end of it all, there would be nothing to be worried about or afraid of after tonight, and he needed to see it, and be a part of it to a small degree.


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry for the delay, but it's been a hectic weekend. Thanks for all of the comments and well wishes from every one! I can't promis this will come as fast as it was before, but that will only be temporary! Hope you like, please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Four Brothers, nor do I profit from this story!

* * *

**_Chapter 19: The Chase_**

Craig held onto Bobby's belt, although this time, it was different than when he held onto Jack's belt the night before. Bobby moved differently, he was in the lead, and that meant that he moved quicker, and his direction was less predictable, which was manageable until they got to the door of the club, then Bobby tended to switch directions without any warning. Bobby was the first through the door, followed by Craig, then Jack and Angel. The sounds of the crowd flowed from the bar area when they walked through the main entrance. Bobby led them through the lobby, passing the bar on their left, and a gambling floor on their right. The lobby emptied directly into the restaurant, with wooden and glass partitions separating it from the bar and gaming floor. The tops of the slot machines were visible above the partition on one end and the sounds from those machines echoed through the restaurant, mingling with the sounds of talking and glasses clinking together and all of it drowning out the sound of the television above the restaurant's smaller bar wich was showing a monster truck competition.

"Goatee, goatee, look for the man with the goatee," Angel spoke just loud enough for his brothers to hear when they stopped at the top of the short set of steps that led down into the restaurant.

Craig found his gaze fixed on the television for a moment, and then let it drop to the bar below it. His eyes fell on Stanley Miller immediately. Next to Stanley sat the man with the braided goatee, a gold bead hanging at the end of it. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew he should say something to Bobby, Jack and Angel, but he didn't have quite enough time before Jack spoke.

"There he is." Jack spoke quickly, his voice tense.

"Where?" Bobby sounded anxious, he wanted this, was anticipating it, and Craig could hear in it in his voice.

"Right there, the man with the goatee," Jack cried out, pointing to the man wearing the red and white jacket sitting next to Stanley.

At that moment Stanley looked up and seen the Mercers standing on the landing just inside of the open doorway. His eyes fixed on Craig, and the look made the boy grow weak in the knees. He watched as Stanley leaned over towards his partner and whispered something, a smile creeping across his face.

In the same moment Bobby grabbed at Jacks arm, pushing it down hard. "I can see him Jack; put your fucking hand down!"He kept his voice quiet.

All four brothers were looking at the men at that bar for a long moment. Stanley leaned over to the goatee guy and spoke to him again, his gaze shifting from Craig, to the three men, then back to Craig again.

Craig felt his heart start to pound hard in his chest and he tried to pull back on Bobby, as if pulling him closer would help in some way.

Bobby glanced back at him and then followed his gaze. "I see 'em." He pulled the left side of his jacket back and reached with his right hand for his gun. "Okay, let's get 'em." He barely got the words out when the goatee guy stood, pulled a gun and aimed it at Bobby. There was a blast and then both men turned and ran towards the other exit.

Craig watched the bullet hit the wall right in front of him, as Bobby, Jack and Angel ducked. He fell back, without having the chance to duck down, and lost his grip on the belt Bobby had been so adamant that he hold onto. Jack and Angel didn't hesitate, and ran down the steps, both still partially leaned over.

Craig's ears started to ring, from the excitement of the moment, he guessed, but he could still hear the screams that were the reactions of the restaurant patrons. He felt a pressure on the front of his jacket, and realized Bobby was yelling at him, and dragging him up to his feet. "I told you not to let go!" Bobby yelled at him while he pulled him down the stairs. They caught up to Jack and Angel, who were struggling to make it past some men who had apparently thought they were hoodlums that needed stopped. Jack seemed to break free first, then Angel. Dragging Craig behind him, Bobby was holding his free arm out in front of himself as if he were blocking for football. He didn't let go of the front of Craig's jacket, and kept pulling him forward with him. "Stay with me!" He turned back to him once, just as they made it over one man that Angel had knocked to the floor ahead of them. Bobby pushed his way past another man, who grabbed for Craig and caught hold for an instant. "All right you punks!"

Bobby gave Craig a hard jerk, freeing him from the stranger's grip, and dragged him towards the exit, they were right on Angel's heals by that time, and Angel was right behind Jack, who was reaching behind him to pull the shot gun out from under his jacket where it had been hidden.

"Get him Jackie O'!" Bobby yelled as they all broke through the exit door.

Jack skidded to a stop, and aimed the shotgun at the tail end of a two toned green El Camino as it raced out of the parking lot, it's tail end sliding to the right as it hit a patch of ice. Angel slid to a stop on Jack's right; Bobby mirrored his action on Jack's left side, letting go of Craig unexpectedly, leaving the boy to slide into his oldest brother's back.

"You go girl." Bobby glared at the tail lights of the car, and then as he grabbed Craig's arm, and turned towards his own car. "Let's get these mother fuckers." He pulled Craig with him at a run, with Jack and Angel beside them. Bobby pulled open the driver's door, pulled back the seat and pushed the boy inside quickly. Craig managed to catch himself on the seat, and it seemed before he could sit himself up Jack and Angel were already in, and the car was moving in reverse.

"The next time you fucking let go of any of us after you've been told to hang on will be the last, you got that?" Bobby didn't have to specify who he was talking to. Craig didn't have time to answer as Bobby turned sharply to swing his front end in the direction of the parking lot exit. The boy found himself sliding across the seat and into Jack. Jack was still holding the shotgun, and he managed to pull it out of the way before Craig slid into him. He pushed him back over to the other side of the car.

"Put on your seat belt!" Jack told him, his voice louder than it needed to be.

Craig started hunting for the seatbelt, but didn't have the chance to locate it before the car slid again, and he went tumbling into Jack a second time.

Jack looked gave him a look, and pushed him back to the other side of the car. "Get your seat belt on before you end up in my lap." He reached down, found part of the seat belt, and then reached over Craig and grabbed the other half, buckling him in tight.

"Punch it Bobby, punch it!" Angel yelled as the car swerved from the right to the left. Craig looked out the window for the first time. He grabbed hold the seat next to him when he realized just how fast the car was moving, in the blizzard like conditions. They were sliding even when Bobby wasn't turning the wheel, and the elder Mercer was fighting to keep his vehicle moving in a forward direction.

"I ain't got any traction; I'm slidin' all over the fucking street!" Bobby spoke loud, but it seemed the car picked up momentum.

Craig looked between the front seats, out the windshield. He could see the El Camino slow down ever so slightly and take a sharp right hand turn. Bobby hit the gas as he reached the corner, sliding the car hard to the left. Craig was pulled to left, slamming hard into the side of the car as it rammed into the cars parked along the street. He didn't have time to react before Jack was sliding hard into him. He looked at Jack as the sound of metal grinding against metal cut through the air with an ugly screeching reminding him of nails against a chalk board, a result of Bobby still gunning the engine to keep moving, running up the side of each car parked on the curb.

"Shit!" Bobby yelled. "Shit, I scraped the whole side of my fucking car!"

Jack pulled back from Craig, looking at Bobby as the man twisted the wheel hard to the right, and hit the gas hard. "Are you gonna get these guys before they kill us?" He yelled at Bobby.

"Sit back and put your seatbelt on Jack!" Bobby yelled. "Make sure your little brother is strapped in tight too."

Jack reached over and grabbed the belt holding Craig in place and pulled hard on the end of it hanging out from the buckle, tightening it as far as it would go.

"Watch the snow man!" Angel yelled out as the car hit a patch of deep snow on the street, again sending the back end of the vehicle into a fishtail.

"I don't give a fuck about the snow!" Bobby yelled as he fought to bring the car back under control.

Craig pressed his left arm into the side of the car, to brace himself against any more impacts. He didn't lean towards the middle of the car anymore; he strained to look past Bobby on the left side. He could see the green car ahead of them, surprised that after the impact with the parked cars, and all the fishtailing they'd been doing, that they had actually gained on Stanley and the man with the goatee.

Gun shots sounded out and the windshield took the shots, the impact marks seemed to explode in the glass, but it didn't shatter, the hits left two craters in the center of the glass. One of the bullets penetrated the glass, and hit the back seat between Craig and Jack.

Craig felt the air being sucked out of him as he stared at the hole in the vinyl seat.

"Shit!" Bobby yelled, "Where's that shotgun Jack?" He half turned towards Jack.

Jack lifted the gun and examined the chambers. "There's no shells!" He yelled back.

"Quit your arguing!" Angel yelled out in response.

"Shit! They're in the trunk." Bobby looked pissed, as if Jack should have had the shells there, ready to use.

"Well where in the hell am I…" Jack started looking at the back seat, as if he thought he could get to the trunk from that position.

Bobby cut off Jack's question quickly. "Sit down and shut up!" He yelled. He glanced at Craig in the rearview mirror. "Get your brother down before he gets his fucking head blown off!"

Jack grabbed Craig at the neck and pushed him down into the seat, the belt holding him in digging into his stomach. "Stay there!" He yelled at the boy.

Craig turned his head enough that he could still see Bobby and Angel in the front. Bobby looked over at Angel, then back to the street ahead of him. He looked at his brother again. "Angel, stick that cannon out the window and bust some shots!" He yelled.

Angel started turning the old hand crank, rolling down the window next to him. "I'll put one in the back of their head!" He yelled as he leaned out the window, with the gun in his right hand and started firing.

"Shoot them sons of bitches Angel!" Bobby yelled. "Get 'em!"

Angel squeezed off two more rounds.

"Get those mother fuckers!" Bobby kept looking over to Angel as he yelled.

Again Angel fired more shots. Craig squeezed his eyes closed as the seatbelt seemed to dig harder into his stomach as the car slid again.

"You got him!" Bobby sounded surprised.

Craig opened his eyes again and rose slightly to try to see out the front window. The El Camino was losing control in the snow and ice as it passed under the multi-colored Christmas lights hanging above. He was barely able to watch it through the wind driven snow as it hit one bank of slush and ice that had obviously been pushed into position by a nearby snow plow, go airborne, and spin into another snow bank, coming to rest with its wheels spinning wildly, apparently stuck. Angel was pulling back into the car from the side at that moment and his hand came back instantly slapping Craig back down to the seat. Angel turned and looked at him. "You were told to stay the fuck down!" He yelled at him.

Craig wasn't sure how the man had noticed him raising up, but he kept himself down in the seat, not chancing a look at Angel to see if he was truly as pissed as he sounded.

Bobby glanced into the back seat again. "Jack you and Craig got your seatbelts on?" He asked loudly. "Watch this; hold on!"

Craig heard the engine rev' as Bobby punched the gas. The tail end of the car slid to the left, and then to the right hard enough to pull him back towards his side of the seat, and then push him towards Jack. He looked up in time to see Jack pressing his hands on the roof of the car, and brace his legs against the back of Angel's seat. When he looked out the window next to Jack he could see colors from the Christmas lights blurring past overhead through the violent flow of snow. He recognized the look on Jack's face as one of knowing. Jack could see what was going on and he had prepared for something. Craig wasn't sure what to expect, but knowing Bobby, he could guess that they were heading straight for the El Camino, which he had seen stuck, spinning its wheels. Bobby was speeding up, not slowing down, so obviously there was about to be a collision and the boy scarcely had time to react by grabbing the back of Bobby's seat before Bobby's car impacted the trapped El Camino. The jolt resounded with the sounds of metal grinding on metal, similar to the sound he'd heard when Bobby's car sideswiped the parked cars just moments before, but it was louder, and condensed into less time. 

Craig felt his stomach being spun around one way while the rest of his body went the other, and his brain couldn't catch up with either. Somehow he was swung up into a sitting position and was able to see they were doing a donut, sliding past the green car holding Stanley and his partner.

"Shit!" Bobby fought to bring the car under control. "Shit!" He yelled again as they finally came to a stop, facing the El Camino with a distance of twenty yards separating them.

The impact had knocked the shooters free from the snow that had been holding them, and they didn't waste any time in getting the car moving. Bobby hit the gas again; the force of the sudden acceleration slammed Craig back into his seat, and caused the back end to fishtail. Craig thought for a moment that he was going to get sick from the motion.

"Don't let 'em get away!" Angel yelled out. "Don't let 'em get away!"

Craig looked out the window next to him, and could have sworn he seen sparks mixed with the snow flashing past him. The sounds metal grating from the front end of the car caused his senses to tingle. Then the air filled with more gunshots, and Craig's attention was drawn to the muzzle flash which originated from the passenger side of the El Camino.

"Shit!" Angel and Bobby both yelled.

"Mother…" Angel didn't finish the last part as he leaned out the window again with the gun aimed straight ahead and started firing.

"Pop 'em Angel, pop 'em, get 'em!" Bobby yelled.

Another few moments, passed, Craig prayed it would all end. He was scared and he knew he was going to have several new bruises come morning. He wanted to go home; he wanted it all to be over. He was watching the sparks flying past him as they seemed to increase, and the grinding that he was hearing from the left front end of Bobby's car seemed to be getting louder. "Bobby…" He started to speak just as thunderous bang echoed through the car, giving the front end a sudden lurch, and then it felt as if the car was tilted. The sparks were more intense, as steel struck the icy street, penetrating down to the blacktop. The shrill whining of the noise was deafening, at least to Craig.

The jerk of the car had caught Angel off guard and he lost his balance, his body falling towards the street whizzing below him with his arms reaching for something substantial, and only finding air. Jack reached for Angel instantly.

"Get your ass in here!" Bobby grabbed Angel's belt with his right hand, steering the car with his left, and between him and Jack was able to pull Angel back in the window.

Jack slid across the seat and pressed his face against the window in front of Craig, practically sitting on the boy's lap.

Bobby was also looking out the window at the front wheel. "Shit!" He yelled. "We had a fuckin' blowout!"

Jack slid back to the middle of the seat. "Alright let's just stop the car Bobby, okay? Let's just stop!"

Craig was about to voice his own agreement to Jack's request.

"Shut up Jack!" Bobby turned and glanced at Jack. "We're gonna ride these pricks out to the river and we got 'em!" He hit the gas hard, gaining on the shooters. Craig looked up at the Christmas lights going by again, and then looked straight ahead as the car tried to fishtail once more and Bobby managed to hold it straight. It occurred to the teen that the car had to have been hard as hell to steer with one tire blown, and the snow and ice to fight against and the speed on top of all of that. He could see when they came to the bridge. Once they crossed the river the street opened up and it was a straight run. It seemed the snow was becoming more intense, but Bobby was able to gain enough speed and was on the ass end of the shooters' car.

"Are you ready?" Bobby asked as he hit the gas and rammed the tail end of the El Camino hard enough that it sent the car sliding further ahead of them.

"I got 'em, I got 'em!" Bobby called out as he picked up speed and pulled up on the left side of the El Camino. He twisted the steering wheel hard and rammed into the back left side of the other car.

Craig held tried to steady himself by holding onto the seat between him and Jack, but ended up grabbing Jack when the impact rocked the car.

"Hold on!" Bobby accelerated more, pulling further up along side of the El Camino, and repeated the move, slamming into the left rear of it, near the tire.

This time the force of the hard contact sent the El Camino into a spin. The speed at which the car was traveling kept it moving down the street as it spun donuts on the ice. Bobby hit the gas again, catching up to their prey. He turned the wheel hard to the right just as he was about to ram it, hitting the driver's side in mid spin.

This time the car flipped onto its roof and flipped twice before sliding to a stop.

"Woe-oh!" Jack yelled loud, a smile on his face.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talking about Bobby!" Angel yelled out as he laughed.

Craig was stunned. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear anything else.

Bobby eased the car to a stop, a smile on his face. He got out of the car and pulled his gun out as did Angel. Jack was climbing out of the back seat instantly. Craig didn't move. He didn't want to get out of the car and see what was about to happen next. He was afraid of what his brothers were about to do. Bobby started to walk away from the car, but looked back at Craig, who met his gaze. "Come on, you need to stay with Jack." He called out over the wind, and then walked away, leaving his car door standing open.

Craig climbed out of the car, slowly. He didn't close the door, seeing that Jack had left the passenger door hanging open. He watched as his brothers ran towards the crashed car ahead. He walked in the same direction, but lagged behind on purpose.

"Jackie, you stay here." Bobby called back to Jack. "Keep Craig close." He and Angel ran on ahead with their guns aimed at the car.

Jack pulled up to a stop, watching the older Mercers move on ahead.

Craig caught up to Jack as Bobby and Angel got to the car. Their forms were blurred by the heavy snow driving hard in the wind. The sounds of punching and kicking carried on the wind, with voices weaved in between each punch.

"Who sent you?" Angel's voice sounding pissed came first.

"I ain't telling you shit!" Another voice, one that Craig thought sounded familiar, but wasn't sure if it was Stanley or his partner.

"You're the fucker who likes to rape little boys?" Bobby's voice was heard over the wind. "You sorry shit!"

Another voice, inaudible over the howling, but Craig was sure it was Stanley. Bobby had Stanley and was beating on him, Craig was sure of that by what little he could see and hear.

"Get his wallet!" Bobby called out.

"You fucked with the wrong lady!" Angel yelled, and then the gun shot echoed through the empty street. Jack turned away quickly, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Craig looked up at him, wanting to do or say something to help him, but no knowing what would help. Jack obviously did not like guns, just as he had told him earlier that day. Jack looked down at him, and rested a hand on his shoulder, but didn't turn back to the scene, or speak. Craig looked back towards the direction of the El Camino, though he couldn't really see anything through the snow.

"You want to know what happens to sick fuckers like you?" Bobby's voice, and then a gun blast cut the air.

There was a howling scream that seemed to drown out the wind.

"That's one ball you sick son of a bitch." Bobby yelled, then another blast. "That's two!"

The screaming ceased, but apparently there was still life in Stanley, because Bobby was still talking to him loudly. "You don't fuck with a Mercer!" Then another shot.

Moments later two shadows formed on the other side of the curtain of snow, moving towards Craig and Jack. The shadows took on the forms of Bobby and Angel, and as they got closer they picked up speed, their walk changing to a trot on the icy street.

"Let's go Jack!" Bobby gave Jack a clap on the arm, as if he were waking him up, then grabbed Craig's arm and continued running back to the car with him in tow.

"Are they dead?" Jack asked as he turned and ran with right behind Angel

"Yeah, they're gone." Angel answered.

"They killed Ma, but we got 'em!" Bobby pushed Craig back into the car and got into the driver's seat.

Once the car was moving again Bobby started laughing. "We need to hide the car man." He commented.

"Yeah, I gotta an idea for that." Angel answered.

"You do?" Bobby glanced over at him. 'What kind of idea."

"Sofi's brother. He can hide it and get it fixed up." Angel looked at Bobby with a grin, "And it won't cost you a fucking cent."

"Well, let's get our little brothers home and then we can talk about that." Bobby looked back at Jack. "You okay Jack?" He asked.

"I'm fine." Jack nodded his head.

Bobby looked in the rear view mirror and looked at Craig, but didn't speak to him.

Craig thought he seen something in behind Bobby's eyes, as if the man knew something. He swallowed hard and let himself rest back in his seat. Surely Bobby would have been yelling at him by now if Stanley had said anything to him that Craig hadn't, wouldn't he? The man wasn't able to hold his temper with his youngest brother that well. Still, Craig had a nagging feeling in his gut that something was wrong. Everything was supposed to be alright now. His brothers had carried out their own justice, and he was free of the fear, or he was supposed to be. Not that what he'd seen and heard that night was anything that would make him feel better, but it was supposed to be over, and for some reason, it didn't feel like it was.


	20. Chapter 20

Thanks to those who have been letting me know what you think, as always I appreciate it :) This one may be a little slow, but it is working up to something I promise.

Disclaimer still counts for this one!

**_Chapter 20: After the Kill_**

The ride to the house was mostly quiet. Every once in a while Angel, or Bobby or Jack would make a quiet comment about the chase, and how they had thought they were in trouble with the way the car had been sliding on the ice. But the comments were brief, and no one really tried to start up a conversation. Craig felt numb. He felt as if he were missing something. The look that Bobby had given him in the mirror had been unreadable. The fact that his brothers had gone to the lengths that they had to revenge those few minutes in the store, to cause pain to the men who had killed their mother seemed unreal to him. He had known they were going to do it, but it hadn't felt the way he thought it would. There was something missing. Something important, and that nagging was going to haunt him until he could figure it out.

When they pulled up in the drive at the back of the house Bobby turned to the back seat. "Jack, you take Craig in, and both of you get showers. You take your clothes and his and bag 'em up. We don't want to take a chance on anything. I'll pick up the clothes later." Bobby turned and looked at Craig, but as before, he didn't say anything.

Angel leaned up in his seat and let Jack and Craig climb out of the car. Craig started to head to the house, walking around the rear end of the car as he did.

"Craig!" Bobby called out before Craig could move far from the car.

Craig turned and looked at Bobby. "You get yourself ready for bed and sleep in Ma's room." Bobby kept his gaze fixed on Craig. "Jack won't be able to stay with you; I need him to do something for me. So you don't come out of the room until I get you up in the morning."

"Okay," Craig nodded his head. He was sure Bobby started to say something else, but never carried through.

"Get your ass in the house." Bobby pointed to the door after several moments. "Get into the shower, now." He ordered.

Craig turned and walked to the house. He looked back as he reached the back door and saw that Jack was leaned down to Angel's window, and the three men were talking. Craig suddenly felt as if he were being sent in the house so that he couldn't hear what was being said. Bobby had insisted that one of them be with him at all times and now he was sending him into the house alone. A feeling of dread was building inside his gut; what had Stanley said in his last moments, before Bobby killed him? He had to have said something. Bobby reached across the car, past Angel and handed Jack something. Craig wasn't sure what it was until he seen a flash of a reflection from the street light, and he was sure it was the hand gun Bobby had used to shoot Stanley. It seemed odd that Bobby would give Jack the gun, given the way Jack had reacted out in the street when Bobby and Angel had approached the El Camino, beat on the two killers, and fired off their shots. Jack had been terrified, or at least it seemed that way to Craig.

The boy turned and headed into the house before anyone noticed he was watching. He found Sofi in the kitchen, standing at the microwave watching a bag of popcorn expand. The smell of popcorn usually was appealing, but after what he'd seen that night, it turned his stomach slightly. She turned to him, and smiled. "It's about time." She spoke with her heavy accent. "Where is Angel?"

Craig shook his head. "They had to do something." He muttered and headed through the kitchen to the foyer, up the stairs and to his room. He found a basket of clean clothes setting on his bed, and assumed that Sofi had been doing laundry, probably at Angel's request. Jack had done a load the night before, but he hadn't washed a full basket of Craig's clothes, the boy was certain of that. He dug through the basket until he found clean underwear, sweat pants, and a long sleeve jersey. He went to the restroom and got into the shower, wanting to get it over with quickly. He removed the bandage from his arm while the water ran over it. It was looking good, and didn't need to be bandaged any more. He heard Jack's voice from below while he was drying off. He dressed quickly, put some anti biotic cream on the healing scratch and started to take his dirty clothes to his room, to put them in the dirty clothes basket, as he usually did.

"Give me those." Jack was coming up the stairs with a black plastic trash bag when Craig walked out of the restroom.

Craig gave Jack the clothes and watched him put them into the bag.

Jack looked at him. "Bobby said for you to get to bed." Jack reminded the teen.

"Can I go get my sketch pad?" Craig asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, you are supposed to get into bed and stay there." He stared at Craig as if he were waiting for him to move towards Evelyn's room.

"Why can't I just get my pad, and then I'll go right to bed?" Craig asked.

"Because that wasn't what you were told to do, that's why. Don't think that because Bobby's not here that you don't have to listen." Jack spoke with a warning tone to his voice, one that Craig wasn't used to hearing from Jack.

Craig turned and went into his mother's room. He turned to close the door.

"Leave it open." Jack called as he walked into the restroom. "Get your ass in the bed."

Craig pulled the blankets back on the bed, and crawled across it to lie next to the wall. He was tired, but at the same time he was feeling anxious and knew there was no way he could sleep. He stared at the ceiling above him, while his mind went over the day's events. That morning things had been so different, it felt a lifetime ago. He should have felt relief that the men who murdered his mother were dead. He should have been satisfied with the fact that Stanley Miller, the man who had held a gun to him, and pulled his pants down, grabbing him the way his father had grabbed him so many times when he was little, was dead. But there was something in way Bobby had looked at him, something in his voice that told Craig nothing was okay. He felt as if there was something else that needed to be done, and he wasn't sure what it could be. His brothers were going to take care of the car, and apparently clean up any loose ends that might be dangling out there for the police to tie them to the shootings on the street.

Five minutes later Jack was walking down the stairs, and Craig was sure he heard the front door open and close. He sat up in the bed and listened for a moment before getting out of the bed and walking to the window to look out. Bobby's car was sitting on the street, idling. Jack walked to the car and handed the bag to Angel through the window, and then turned and walked down the street in the opposite direction the car started moving. The boy watched for a few minutes, to be sure Jack wasn't coming back before walking out the door, down the stairs, and to the living room. Sofi was still in the kitchen. She was now talking on her cell phone. Craig was careful to move quietly so that she wouldn't hear him. He moved to the dark dining room, where he had left his sketchbook on the table. He found the pencil, but the book was gone. He swallowed hard, not sure where it could have gone. He looked on the floor, thinking that perhaps it had fallen off of the table. Then he looked at the table, and realized it had been cleaned off. He walked back to the living room, hoping that Sofi had put the book in the desk drawer. He opened the drawer as quietly as he could to find the book wasn't there. The drawings he had given his brothers were still in the drawer, but the pad was not with them. The next thought that came to mind was that maybe Sofi had put it in his room. He felt a panic building up inside of him. He silently moved to the stairs, and made his way back upstairs, to his room. He looked on the dresser, then in the dresser drawers, but found no sign of the book of paper that held so much of him inside. He looked under his pillow, then under his mattress. He was about to go back down the stairs to ask Sofi outright if she had put the pad anywhere but when he reached the top of the stairs he was sure he heard Bobby's voice in the kitchen. He moved quickly to his mother's room and got back into the bed. He prayed Bobby hadn't heard him moving around. He rolled onto his right side, facing the wall and waited for any sounds of Bobby coming up the stairs. He lay there for a long while, listening, but never heard any other hint of any of his brothers being in the house. He was starting to think it had been his imagination when he finally heard heavy feet on the stairway. He heard Angel's voice, quiet, and then Bobby's whispers. Moments later he heard the floor creaking next to the bed. He didn't turn to see who it was. He closed his eyes and prayed that if it was Bobby that he wouldn't check to see if he was awake or asleep.

The shower started running a moment later, and Craig could hear footsteps moving out of the room. He assumed Angel was in the shower, and Bobby had been in the room with him. He strained his ears to listen to for any voice, or movement. A few times he thought he heard voices, but they were faint and he couldn't tell who it was talking. He worried about his sketch pad. His brothers wouldn't have taken that, would they? They knew it was private, they knew he didn't want anyone else looking at it. How could he explain some of the drawings that the pad contained? How could he answer the questions that his brothers would surely ask if they looked through the scenes that were depicted in that book? Some of the worst memories of his life were hidden in those pages. Though the pad of paper was not the only one that existed, he'd been drawing since his real mother had been killed. He had many sketch pads and some of the earlier ones contained most of the more frightening scenes, the more questionable scenes. But the book he'd been working in contained that one picture that he didn't want his brothers to see. The one that he'd started Thanksgiving night, the one that had made him itch. Though his brain couldn't quite recall the sketch it's self, he knew he didn't want his brothers to see it. He didn't even want to look at it; he just wanted to keep it close.

The sound of Bobby's voice in the hall brought the boy out of his thoughts. He heard the man walk into the restroom, and then the water started running. Craig listened as Angel and Sofi went to Angel's room, and then Jack walked to his room and closed his door. Ten minutes later Bobby walked into the room and closed the door, without turning on the light.

Craig couldn't stand it anymore. He rolled over onto his back and turned his head to look at Bobby. "What time is it?" He asked quietly.

Bobby looked at the clock. "It's almost twelve. Get to sleep." He sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched. Craig could make out in the dark that his brother was wearing long johns and a t-shirt.

"Can I go get my sketch pad?" Craig asked quietly.

Bobby turned and looked at him. "I said to get to sleep."

"But I…" Craig started to argue.

"No. I said go to sleep. Don't test me right now." Bobby sounded calm, and his voice was quiet. He sounded tired. "The fucking pad wont' go anywhere between now and morning." He lay down in the bed, blocking Craig's only avenue of getting off the mattress.

There was quiet for a long while. Craig finally rolled onto his right side again, deciding that it wouldn't do any good to argue with his brother at that moment. He could hear Bobby's breathing slowing, and becoming shallow. He closed his eyes and prayed he'd be able to sleep, now that he knew all of his brothers were in the house. He tried to convince his self that his brothers hadn't had a chance to get his sketch pad. It had been on the table when they left earlier that evening, and the only person who had been in the house until they got back had been Sofi. She had to have put it somewhere when she straightened up. He would have to wait and look for the book in the morning.

That nagging that had been eating away at him since Bobby had given him that look in the car was still there, though there didn't seem to really be any reason for it. He was sure if Stanley had said anything to his brothers before they killed him that Bobby would have brought it up by now. His brother wasn't a patient person, so he wouldn't have been able to hold anything back if he knew anything more than what Craig had told him. That's what he was trying convince himself into believing. As he started to drift off to sleep, he told himself he would just have to wait until morning to find out anything for certain.

* * *

The next morning Craig woke early to find Bobby standing at the dresser, wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt. He was looking in the mirror at his left arm. "Fuck. "He muttered.

Craig sat up, noticing right away what Bobby was looking at. His brother had been bitten by some dogs the day before, and the skin around the marks looked an ugly red, sthe ame as his own arm had looked the morning before. "You should put something on that." The boy muttered.

Bobby looked over at him. "Get dressed." He spoke normally, and he didn't seem to have that look in his eyes like he'd had the night before. That made Craig feel a little better, and the fact that he'd slept decent for a period of time helped even more. He felt as if a pressure was lifting off of his chest, until he remembered that he hadn't been able to find his sketch pad the night before. He almost asked Bobby about it, but it was obvious his brother was concerned about his injury that had gone untreated for a full day, and thought better of it. He got out of bed and found some of his clothes were folded neatly on the chair against the wall and started dressing quickly.

Bobby sat on the bed and started pulling on his socks and boots. He looked at Craig. "You never seen anything last night, remember that." He spoke carefully.

Craig looked at his brother. "I know." He spoke quietly.

Bobby nodded his head. "Good. We were at Jerry's. Jerry and Camille had us all over for dinner, and we ate there. They both already know. You fell asleep there and we had to wake you up when we came home."

Craig nodded his head. "Where did I fall asleep? I don't remember." He muttered. Was this what Bobby was worried about last night? Was he worried that Craig would screw up and tell someone what he'd seen and what his brothers had done?

"On the couch in the family room," Bobby stood as Craig finished dressing. Bobby stopped at the restroom and gathered some medical supplies before leading the boy down the steps.

When they got downstairs Angel and Sofi were already in the kitchen. Sofi was making a pot of coffee; Angel was sitting at the kitchen table. The two of them were talking quietly, but Sofi didn't sound happy.

"Stop bitchin', and just listen." Angel spoke calmly. "Jerry's, we were at Jerry's until about eleven thirty." He noticed Bobby and Craig in the dining room, and the medical supplies Bobby was setting on the table. He stood and walked in.

Bobby looked at Angel. "I need you to help me with this." He held up his arm and showed it to Angel.

"How is the leg? You were bit on the leg too." Angel asked as he walked over and looked at the bites. There was also a cut down the front of Bobby's hand. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"My leg is fine; and what can I say, the son of a bitch had sharp teeth." Bobby glanced at Craig, who sat down at the table. "Your fucking sketch pad is in the living room, under the couch cushion." He informed. "You can go get it now if you want."

Craig was surprised by Bobby's words.

"I put it there before we left last night. I didn't think you would want it on the table with miss 'La Vida Nosey' in the house." He explained. "You can get it and come back in here."

Craig felt a wave of relief sweep over him. Somehow just knowing where his most personal possession was hidden made him feel better. He'd been worrying about his brothers looking in it, and now he felt almost guilty that he'd not trusted them. They had trusted him, and he had lied to them. They hadn't done anything to make him believe he couldn't trust them, yet he still found it hard to give it to them. Part of him felt guilty for both not telling his brothers the whole truth, and for not having enough faith in them. At the same time, he still shuddered at the thought of telling them about his father. If he told them about that man, and what he'd done to him when he was small, then it would make it all real again, and he was terrified of that. Besides, there was really no reason to, as long as that man didn't try to cause any problems now that Evelyn was dead. The fear of the state coming in and taking him away wasn't as strong as it had been days before. Maybe it was because his brothers hadn't blamed him for not doing anything to stop the murder of their mother. They wouldn't wash their hands of him and kick him out, or send him back to where he'd come from. That had been the real fear, that his brothers would want him.

"Well?" Bobby sat in the chair at the end of the table, giving the boy a look.

"It's okay. I don't need to get it right now." Craig spoke quietly.

Bobby shook his head as Angel looked at his injured arm.

"Sofi can fix this up better than I can. She's used to patching up her brother." Angel smiled and turned towards the kitchen. "Sofi, come here." He walked to the kitchen and a few minutes later Sofi walked in, giving Bobby a look.

"What did you do now Bobby?" She asked.

Bobby sighed, obviously not very happy to have to rely on Sofi to doctor his arm up. "Dogs," He tried to sound casual.

Sofi rattle off something in Spanish and sat down in the chair opposite of Craig, so that she could see Bobby's arm. She grabbed some gauze and alcohol and started cleaning the cut.

Craig watched Sofi work while Bobby seemed to stare out into space, obviously losing himself in his own thoughts; at least until Sofi hit one of the bites with the alcohol soaked gauze. He jerked her head around to look at her. "Ahh!" He cried out.

"Oh Bobby, you are such a pussy." Sofi scolded. "It should be against the law for people to keep their dogs some place where people like you can get to them." Sofi started bandaging the arm tightly.

"Hey ya all, police in the house!" Angel called out from the kitchen at that moment.

Craig felt his stomach turn to ice. Instant fear seemed to take over him. Why would the police be there so soon? How could they know?

Bobby looked at Sofi. "Get me something to cover my arm." He ordered. "Quick."

Sofi jumped to her feet and moved away.

Bobby looked at Craig, "Come on, get on the couch." He stood; grabbing Craig's left arm and pulling him out of the chair after him. Sofi met them in the living room with a black robe covered in flowers.

Bobby gave Sofi an irritated look, but pulled the robe on and tied it around him. He motioned for Craig to get on couch.

Craig moved to the far end of the couch, next to the end table. Bobby sat down next to him, and pulled his injured arm around him. "Just relax and keep your mouth shut. They won't talk to you." He spoke quickly.

It seemed an eternity before Craig could hear the back door slamming shut. He leaned into Bobby, hearing Green's voice from the kitchen. "You mind if we come in?"

Panic stabbed at the boy's stomach. He was sure this was going to be it. His brothers were about to be busted, and he suddenly felt that if they were, it would be his fault somehow, though that didn't make any sense.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I make no money, I do not own Four Brothers

As always, thanks for reading! :)

**_Chapter 21: Green's Words_**

"The cops are always welcome in the Mercer house; it makes us feel warm and cozy, just the way we like it." Angel spoke casually has he led Green and his partner through the dining room, and into the kitchen.

Green looked at Bobby and smiled. "Woo-hoo, sexy," He referred to the floral print robe Bobby was sporting.

Bobby stood, pulling the robe around him. "Thank you, Jack wanted this little number for himself, but I fought him for it." He walked around the coffee table to stand in front of Green and Fowler.

Angel stood at the end of the coffee table, looking at the two detectives with no emotion on his face.

Green looked down at the cut on Bobby's hand. "What happened to the hand? Did you happen to forget about the conversation we had the other day at your brother's house about not interfering with our investigation?"

Sofi and Jack were both standing in the doorway to the foyer now.

Bobby looked down at his hand. "Oh, no, this is a 'Turkey Cup' man, hockey. It's an old Mercer family tradition." He held his hand up as if to show it off. "Those guys can get pretty rough out there on that ice. You remember that Green, you played hockey." He sounded casual.

"Where's your car Bobby? We didn't see it out front when we pulled up." Green asked.

Bobby hesitated in answering.

It was Sofi who spoke up. "We left it at Jeremiah's." She looked at Bobby, and then Angel.

"Yeah, Jerry drove us home." Angel spoke casually. "You know, Volvos are one of the safest cars out there. Volvos are incredible man when there's a blizzard outside."

Craig kept his eyes fixed on Green and Fowler. Green smiled slightly, seemingly enjoying the explanation. Fowler on the other hand rolled his eyes and gave Green an exasperated look. He sighed and finally spoke, cutting Angel off while he was still talking. "That's fascinating." He took a step up to Bobby. "Hey, 'Gretzky'," He held up a plastic bag. "You know what this is?"

Bobby looked at the bag, then directly at Fowler. "A hair from your wife's tit," Bobby guessed with a look on his face that matched Green's.

"Try from your thick skull." Fowler tried to sound tough, but it seemed to come across more as stupid to Craig.

Bobby looked at Green, "Fishing for a confession with a phony hair." He shook his head and Craig could see he was smiling. "That's an old one, boys." He turned and walked around the coffee table to return to the couch. He dropped down next to Craig and let his felt arm fall across the boy's shoulder. His hand conformed to Craig's left arm and gave it a slight squeeze. When Craig looked up at Bobby, the man glanced at him and let another smile slip. Angel sat down on the other side of Bobby.

Green smiled wide and patted Fowler on the shoulder as Bobby looked back up at the detectives and kept talking. "You know when I'll know you got my hair off a dead body, right? When I hear the jailhouse doors close behind me, girls." He gave Craig's arm another slight squeeze.

Green wasn't going to play the games that Fowler was trying to play, that was obvious. He nodded his head. "Okay, you tell me what they told you. You think these thugs were hired to kill Evelyn? Is that it?"

Bobby ran his free hand over his slicked back hair. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about.' He spoke casually.

Angel drew in a deep breath. "Wait, Green, how do you go from petty thug, to contract killer?" He had his arms resting on his knees. He straightened his back slightly. "And if they was professional shooters, like you say, they would've never told us who they was working with anyway. Even if they got one hell of an ass whippin'," He spoke the last part of his statement quickly.

Green nearly laughed, and turned to look at Fowler.

Fowler on the other hand, seemed pissed off by the statement. "You think you're pretty cute, don't you?" He gave Green a sideways glance. "He does." He started to walk towards Angel. "Yeah, everybody's a smart guy until I bust 'em in the mouth." His voice sounded threatening.

Angel stood to meet the man as Jack and Sofi both stepped up as if to stop the confrontation.

"You want to bust me in my mouth?" Angel seemed to be daring the cop.

"Hey, hold on, hold on." Green stepped in between the two, pushing his way past Jack to do so. "This ain't what I'm here for."

Fowler and Angel were still trying to push past Green towards each other.

"Hey, stop!" Green's voice rose as he pushed Fowler back. The white cop turned and moved back from the confrontation. Green looked at Bobby. "Look, Bobby, if you got something, you give it to me. And if it's something vital, man, we will run with it. But don't try to take on Detroit by your damn self." Green looked from Bobby, to Angel and then back to Jack and Sofi as he continued to speak. "You keep knocking on the devil's door long enough and sooner or later, somebody's gonna answer you." His gaze fell back to Bobby. "Do you really want to put Craig through more shit right now? Hasn't he been through enough?"

Bobby didn't answer his former hockey opponent.

There was a long silence that fell over the room. Green finally looked at Craig. "Look, I need to question Craig."

Bobby's hand tightened around Craig's arm again. "No." He shook his head.

"Bobby, he never has answered my questions. I need to question him in order to do my job right. Now, I could be a real ass and have him brought down to the station by some uniforms if you'd rather I do that, but I need to question him." Green remained calm. "I don't want to be an ass."

"He's emotional. He's not been talking much since the shooting." Angel remained standing. "You know that. Jerry said you've tried to question him a few times already."

Green looked at Angel, and then back to Bobby. "It won't take long, and I'm willing to do this here."

Bobby looked down at Craig. "Like Angel said, he's not been talking much." He looked up at Green. "You can try talking to him, but it's not going to do any good."

Green looked at the boy. "Why don't we go in the dining room and we can talk?" He asked the boy.

Craig looked up at Bobby, not wanting to sit with Green to talk about any of it.

"It's okay." Bobby spoke calmly. "We can go in the dining room." Bobby nodded his head. "He can't talk to you alone." He spoke the words slowly. "I'll be right there with you."

Bobby stood, and Craig stood with him. Angel stood as well, and started to walk with them to the next room, with Jack right behind him.

Fowler turned and looked at Angel and Jack. "Don't tell me, all three of you are his legal guardian." He spoke sarcastically.

"No, man, we're his brothers." Jack responded with a tone mocking that of Fowler's.

"We only need his legal guardian." Fowler spoke, his tone still unfriendly.

Bobby looked at Angel and Jack. "It's okay; we're only going to be in the dining room." He told them calmly. "It's not like you can't hear what's going on from here." He then smiled.

Angel and Jack both stopped at that point.

Bobby and Craig followed Green to the dining room. Green sat down on the side of the table in front of the kitchen table where Jack normally sat. Craig automatically took the chair Bobby had assigned him for meal time. He watched Bobby sit down at the end of the table.

Fowler stood beside Green, apparently choosing not to sit next to Bobby. Green pulled his notepad from his breast pocket along with a pen. "Craig, I know this isn't easy, but believe me, there are things that you can tell me that might help with my investigation." Green spoke with a calm voice. "How are you doing? How is your jaw feeling?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders, but didn't' speak. He wasn't sure what Green thought he could tell him.

"Craig, I watched the security video from the store. I know what happened that night." Green spoke carefully. "I wish you had told me before. You know, that's what the police are there for, to catch the kind of people who hurt your mother and you that night."

Craig's stomach turned to ice. He stared down at the edge of the table, not looking at Green.

"Did you tell your brothers about that night?" Fowler asked that question.

Craig thought about the question for a long moment. Bobby had done exactly what he'd said he'd do. He'd shot the sick fucker's dick off. If he told Green that he'd told his brothers anything about what that man did to him, he would know for certain that his brothers were the men who killed Stanley and his partner. If he didn't say anything at all, it still wouldn't looke good for his brothers. He shook his head slowly, "No," He muttered but didn't look at the detective.

"You didn't tell them about that man trying to fuck your ass right there in the store, next to your dead mother's body?" Fowler spoke quickly, "Oh come on, I know better than that." He had a mean look in his eyes.

Craig looked up at Fowler, and his heart started beating fast. He looked over at Bobby, desperate for the man to speak up and say something. He didn't want to talk to these men.

Bobby looked at Fowler, "What the fuck are you talking about?" His tone went steely cold. He looked at Green. "What the fuck did he just say to my brother?"

Green looked at Bobby, and then back to Craig. "What did you tell them about that night?" He asked, ignoring Bobby's question.

Craig looked at Green and shook his head again. Obviously he was handling this right, Bobby was playing along with it.

"Wait just a fucking minute." Bobby shook his head. "I want to know what the hell you are talking about."

Green looked at Bobby again. "Bobby, one of the shooters tried to do something with Craig after they shot Evelyn." He spoke calmly. "Now, I'm not so sure that Craig didn't tell you about that, in fact I was sure that he had, by the condition that we found one of them in, but this is not about trying to nail you for anything." He spoke quietly.

Bobby looked at Craig. "It's okay kid." He drew in a deep breath and looked at Green. "There's nothing to nail me or any of my brothers on, I thought we already cleared that up."

Green grinned at Bobby, nodding his head. Then he spoke seriously. "Bobby, this is just a friendly suggestion, but you may want to let Craig see someone who can help him deal with this. It's not normal for him to be this quiet, is it?" Green asked. "And for him to not tell you about something like that, it's just not healthy."

Bobby sat back in his chair. "I'll deal with my little brother the best way I know, and he's gonna be fine." His eyes narrowed on Green. "What the fuck is this about Green? You said you needed to ask him questions, not play therapist for a rape victim." He sounded upset.

Green shook his head. "You know Bobby, not all cops are bad." He spoke carefully. "And I thought you knew me better than to not trust me."

"I trust you. It's the cop you are now, and every other cop in Detroit I have a problem with." Bobby shook his head, his eyes fixing on Fowler.

Green drew in a deep breath and looked at Craig. "Listen, Craig, I know that man spoke to you when he had you on the floor. That was obvious from the tape. I need to know what he said to you."

Craig looked back down at the table. He felt as if he were going to explode. Green hadn't asked these kinds of questions before.

There was quiet for a few moments before Green spoke again. "Let's try this. Can you tell me what happened when these two creeps came into the store?" Green asked.

Craig stared hard at the wood grain, studying the pattern, trying to block out Green's voice.

"This is bullshit!" Fowler spoke loud, causing Craig to flinch. "Kid, you better start talking, this playing mute game is getting old!" He moved as if he were going to take a step towards Craig.

Bobby was on his feet immediately. "You stay the fuck away from him." He warned his face blank of all emotion.

Green stood and stepped in between Bobby and Fowler. "You know, partner, this is getting old. You let me handle this. You aren't gonna get anywhere with this boy by scaring the shit out of him."

Angel and Jack appeared in the doorway of the living room. Neither one said anything, but Angel cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

Fowler shook his head. "Fine, I'll go wait in the car and you tell me how much information you didn't get from him when you're done." He turned and walked to the kitchen. He slammed the back door on his way out.

Green looked at Bobby. "Okay?" He asked.

Bobby stared at Green. "I don't think this is such a good idea. Like we told you before, he's not talking much to anyone." He sat down, and looked at Craig. "He's had some good days and some bad days. Don't think that we won't make sure he's okay, he's gonna be fine." He sounded angry.

"I know you will, in your own special way Bobby, but with his history, don't you think it would be best if he had some real help?" Green sat down as well.

Bobby suddenly looked surprised. "What do you mean with his history?"

Green grimaced slightly and looked at Craig for a long moment. "Look, I can't tell you anything about what I've found. I thought you knew." He muttered.

"What the fuck do you mean his history? Green, is there something about his history that ties in with what happened to my mother?" Bobby's voice came out stiff.

"No." Green spoke quickly. "No, it does not tie in with what happened to Miss Evelyn. Don't you have any information about his history Bobby? Don't you know about his life before Evelyn took him in?" He looked at the boy on the opposite side of the table.

Craig could feel the blood draining from his face, and it was getting hard to breathe. His hands were starting to shake, and he folded them on his lap quickly to try to stop them.

Bobby turned and looked at Craig. "Kid, what the fuck is he talking about?"

Craig shook his head slowly.

"Jesus." Green shook his head. "I thought Evelyn would have told you." He drew in a deep breath. "Didn't she leave any papers, anything?"

"Well, why the hell don't you tell me Green?" Bobby asked.

Green held his gaze on the boy for a long moment before looking at Bobby. "I can't." He spoke quietly. "What I've know I found out while working on an ongoing investigation. His records are sealed, and until this investigation is closed, I cannot share any of what I found with you." He folded his hands in front of him and looked at Craig again. "But this isn't why I'm here, is it?" He studied the boy's face. "I need to know what the man said to you Craig. It may help me to track down who he was working with." Green leaned forward.

Green's movement pulled Craig's gaze up to him. The boy could see something in Green's eyes. The detective seemed to know something more than he was telling Bobby, and he was trying to let Craig know that. "Maybe if we could talk alone," He commented.

Craig stared at Green. How could the man know anything about his past, and how could anything from his past have anything to do with his mother's murder? His father wouldn't have been involved in something like that. If he'd wanted to kill Evelyn Mercer, he'd have done it himself, Craig was certain of that; but even as he tried to reason that fact, his mind was recalling the shooters words.

"You ain't talking to him alone." Bobby shook his head. "He can't help you."

Green sighed, keeping his gaze on Craig. "Okay. You listen to me Craig, I have a lot of information, and I will probably find out what I need to know without you talking to me. So, I'm going to let this go. But if you should change your mind, you know how to get a hold of me, right? It would make my job a lot easier if I had your side of the story to work with."

Bobby stood. "Don't count on that Green. He doesn't talk to you unless I'm with him, and that's the law."

"Actually I can question him in the presence of a child advocate Bobby, if I get a warrant and push for it." Green spoke calmly. "But I'm not going to do that." He shook his head. "I won't do that to him. It's obvious that he's scared. So, one last piece of advice, get him to someone who can help him deal with what's happened to him." He turned and walked out of the room, seeing himself out the back door.

Craig kept his gaze on the table, though he could feel Bobby turning to look at him. Angel and Jack stepped all the way into the room.

"What the fuck was he talking about?" Angel asked.

"Good question." Bobby's voice was unreadable.

"I think maybe you should let it go for now Bobby." Jack spoke quietly.

"Let what go? A fucking acquaintance from years ago knows more about our little brother than we do. I don't even know what the hell we would be letting go." Bobby leaned over, placing his hands on the table. "Look at me Craig."

Craig felt his stomach twisting on him. He tried to raise his gaze, tried to look up at his brother, but he couldn't make his self do it.

"Craig, what the fuck was Green talking about?" Bobby didn't yell, but his voice was tight and sharp.

Craig shook his head slowly. "I don't know." He lied.

"Don't start that shit child, we ain't that ignorant." Angel spoke loud.

"Leave him alone!" Sofi spoke from the kitchen doorway. "You are only going to frighten him even more." She walked around the table and rested her hands on the boy's shoulders. "All of you need to back off and calm down before you try to talk to him." She looked at Angel. "You have already dragged him deeper into this than he should be. He's only fourteen years old, or have you all forgotten that? Do you think Evelyn would have let you pull him into your trouble?"

"Trouble?" Angel cried out. "Girl, you don't know shit about this. He needed to be with us, he needed to be a part of getting those ass holes!"

"Why?" Sofi challenged. "Your mother never wanted him to be around that kind of violence, and what do you do as soon as she's gone? You drag him right into it."

Bobby was looking at Sofi now, his face a mixture of surprise that she had spoken up as she had, and anger for her speaking up at all. "He was already in the middle of it. He was right there." Bobby shook his head. "Don't' you ever question me when it comes to him," He stood up straight, keeping his eyes on Sofi. "This ain't your business, and it sure as hell ain't your place to tell me how to take care of him."

Craig could feel his stomach tying up harder in knots.

"You can at least take a few minutes to calm down." Sofi spoke quietly.

"Girl, you had best back off on this one." Angel stepped over and looked down at Sofi. "This is important, and we aren't fucking around here. He's gonna start talking to us, and he's gonna start now." He reached down and grabbed a hold of Craig's arm, pulling him up to his feet. His grip wasn't hard, it was an easy hold. "Believe it or not, we do care about the little shit, and we ain't gonna hurt him." His eyes moved to look down at the boy, who was pulling in shallow quick breaths.

"I'm going to go upstairs and finish dressing." Bobby spoke quietly.

Craig chanced a glance at Bobby. The man looked pissed.

"I'll try to calm down while I'm up there, and when I come down you are going to tell me every fucking thing there is to tell, do you understand me?" Bobby had his eyes fixed on the boy.

Craig swallowed hard. He could kill Green right then. How could the man have said anything? How was he supposed to tell his brothers about his father, his past? He could barely think about his father without panicking. He couldn't face any of that. He couldn't deal with thinking about it, or talking about it. He never could.


	22. Chapter 22

Hello all :) As always, I love to know what you think

Disclaimer still counts

* * *

**_Chapter 22: No More Games_**

Angel pulled Craig to the living room, followed by Jack. Bobby headed for the stairs. "I want some fucking answers when I get back." He called from the bottom of the stairs before climbing them two at a time.

Angel moved Craig to the couch and pushed him down into it. "Craig, you look around you kid. You know everyone here loves you, so whatever you have to say, it's going to be okay, but this is it. There won't be any playing games this time." He turned and looked at Jack, who was standing next to the chair beside the fireplace. "You keep an eye on him. I need to go talk to Sofi for a minute. She's pissed and I need to get her calmed down. The last thing I need is a pissed off woman. Don't let him move from that couch."

Jack nodded his head. "Don't worry, he's not moving."

Angel turned and headed back to the dining room. "Sofi," He called out. "Woman, I need to talk to you."

Jack looked at Craig. "You okay?" He asked quietly.

Craig looked up at Jack, not understanding how the man could have asked that question. No, he wasn't okay. He was trying to figure out what he could say that would make his brothers leave him alone. He wasn't going to tell them shit about his father, he couldn't. He'd never been able to talk about his life before he was a Mercer that was one reason why he had sketched so much over the years. Evelyn never made him try to talk about it, not even the psychologists that he'd seen when he was younger made him talk about any of it. They had always let him sketch it out. He could put it on paper and get it out of his head and he would feel better. Evelyn had always told him that it was his life, and he didn't have to tell anyone about it if he didn't want to.

"Craig?" Jack asked quietly as he moved to the coffee table and sat down on the end of it. "You know, if you talk about it, we can help." He cleared his throat.

Craig shook his head and looked away from Jack. The fear he was feeling was turning to frustration. He stared to his left, at the fire place and tried to ignore the brother sitting in front of him.

"Why do you do this? Why the hell do you clam up like this?" Jack asked.

"There's nothing to tell." Craig muttered, surprised at how calm his voice sounded when inside he was ready to explode.

Jack shook his head and looked towards the stairs. The sound of heavy footsteps drew Craig's attention to the door leading to the foyer. Bobby was coming down the stairs quickly, wearing a sweatshirt under a short sleeved blue uniform shirt sporting the name of Raul on the right side. It hadn't taken Bobby long to pull on the shirts and come back down the stairs. The man walked into the living room and stood on the other side of the coffee table. "What the fuck was Green talking about?" He was quite blunt.

Craig looked up at his oldest brother, and could see the anger in his eyes. "I don't know." He lied, keeping his gaze on Bobby.

"Bull shit!" Bobby's voice rose. "You fucking lied to me yesterday, and you're fucking lyin' to me now!"

Craig swallowed hard, trying to work up some courage.

"Stop the fuckin' lyin' to me." Bobby stood with his hands crossed at his chest.

Angel walked in at that moment and stood next to Bobby. "Why would Green be worried about how you are handling this so much? What happened when you were younger that he would be that concerned?"

Craig looked back to the fire place. "I don't know what he was talking about." He tried to sound calm, and keep his voice steady, but the looks on his brothers' faces made it hard for him to stay calm.

Bobby shook his head and turned as if he was going to walk towards the dining room, drawing Craig's attention back to him, but then he turned back and looked at the boy. "Stanley Miller," He spoke the work with despise. "That man said that you liked what he tried to give you and that if I didn't believe that to ask you who taught you how to fuck so well." His voice was deceptively calm. "I tried to convince myself that the fucker was just yankin' my chain 'cause he knew he was gonna die, but now I'm not so sure."

Craig pulled himself back into the couch, switching his gaze back to the fire place again, and holding onto his stomach. He felt tears stinging at his eyes.

"Don't lie to me again, or I swear I will beat your ass." Bobby threatened. "What did that sick fucker mean? What was he talking about? If you've had that done to you before, how the hell did that son of a bitch know?"

"Bobby, you can't just…" Jack started to say as he stood.

"Shut the fuck up Jack." Bobby didn't take his eyes off of the boy; Craig could feel his stare boring into him like a hot poker. "Little boy, you'd best be looking at me when I'm talking to you." Bobby still sounded calm, but Craig could hear the threat in his voice. "I'm sick and tired of the fucking games. I'm not doin' it any more. You are gonna look at me, and you are gonna talk to me, and you are gonna tell me what the fuck I want to know." Bobby's voice rose that time, and it was obvious that he was trying not to yell.

"You have been playing this game since the funeral, and it's getting old." Angel spoke that time, his voice quiet.

Craig still couldn't bring himself to look up at his brothers. "Mom said I didn't have to tell anyone anything." He was mostly thinking it to himself. He didn't mean to actually say it.

"Well Ma's not here is she? You are stuck with us, and it's about time you grew up a little, and started acting like a fucking fourteen year old young man, and not a small child." Bobby pushed his way past Jack, moved around the table and grabbed Craig's arm, jerking him hard to his feet. "You are about to get your ass whipped. I'm not gonna have a repeat of last night either." He warned, "If I start whippin on you I'm not gonna stop with one or two little smacks on your ass, I'm gonna burn you a new ass hole, now you decide!" His voice was loud.

Craig looked up at Bobby, the tears threatening again. He shook his head. "I don't know what Stanley said to you, but I sure as hell didn't like what he did!" He cried out. "I don't know what the hell Green was talking about. He probably knows more about my past than I do, since I don't remember most of it. And what I do remember, Mom said I didn't have to tell anyone else if I didn't want to. Not that you ever cared about it before! You just think it has something to do with Mom being shot, and it didn't!" He felt his voice growing stronger as he went on. He felt himself close to yelling at Bobby. "You never bothered to ask about my real parents, you never bothered to ask what my life was like before Mom brought me home." He tried to pull his arm free of Bobby's grip, but only got a hard jerk and Bobby's grip tightened. "The only reason you care now is because you think you have a reason to."

"You watch how you talk to me. I'll smack that smart mouth if you keep that up. This is not going to be a yelling match, this is your brother telling you right now that you are gonna fucking tell us exactly what the hell Green was talking about. You got that?" Bobby's voice was tight and his teeth were grinding together as he spoke.

"Or what," Craig was feeling more anger now than fear. "You'll spank me? Or you won't talk to me for a day or so?"

Bobby's free hand swung up with no warning, smacking the boy square in the mouth. "I will not have you talking to us that way. And you damn sure aren't going to change the subject on us!" He yelled as he pulled the boy around the table to the middle of the room.

Craig's mouth smarted from the smack, but it wasn't that bad. He tried to pull away from Bobby as the man dragged him into the dining room. Bobby pulled his chair out from the table, sat down and pulled on the boy hard, bringing him down across his lap. Craig's knees barely reached the floor and he had to use his toes to support himself. His hands automatically reached out to catch himself on the other side of Bobby's lap.

"This is your last chance kid, I'm not playing the game, and I told you that." Bobby warned as he let go of Craig's arm, only to press his hand hard into his back, holding him in place. "I want to know what the fuck Stanley meant, and I want to know what Green was talking about."

Craig kicked his legs and tried to pull himself off of Bobby. The fear that had turned to anger only a few moments before was trying to creep back. He held it in, and it seemed to turn into a panicked rage. "Let me go!" He yelled at Bobby. "You son of a bitch," He nearly screamed the word.

"Have it your way." Bobby spoke as his hand cracked down hard on the boy's cheeks, harder than the boy had expected. The sting seemed to spread out from the point of contact.

"Bobby!" Craig cried out, as the tears started to fall, "Stop!"

Bobby kept it going, the time between strikes becoming shorter as he counted them out loud. He didn't stop until he got to twenty. "Now," Bobby sounded just as angry. "Would you care to rethink your situation for a moment?" He asked. "All you have to do is talk. That shouldn't be so hard. You've talked to us some the past few days, why the fuck is it so hard for you?"

Craig let his head hang down towards the floor, the tears falling hard. "There's nothing to tell Bobby!" He lied again.

Bobby didn't bother to say anything this time, he started the whipping again, delivering the stinging blows just as quickly, and it seemed to the boy even harder than before. This time he counted to twenty five.

"Your ass is gonna be red hot before this day is through little boy. Now you had best tell me something I want to know. What the fuck was Stanley talking about?" Bobby didn't move to let Craig up; he kept his hand in pressed into his back, holding him in place.

Craig tried to find a voice, tried to say something, but he couldn't force it out between the sobbing that was taking hold of him. Before he realized it his legs started kicking. He just wanted to get away from Bobby at that moment.

"Stop fighting me!" Bobby's voice rose slightly and he started another round.

"I hate you!" Craig screamed out before Bobby had called out the fifth wallop to his ass. "You're like him! I hate you!"

Bobby stopped in mid-swing, staring at the boy's shaking back for a long moment. "Who am I like?" He asked quickly.

Craig tried to pull away again, tried to roll off of his brother's lap to get away from him.

Bobby pressed harder on the boy's back. "I got more where that came from kid, now you had best tell me, who am I like?"

"Let go of me!" Craig was more begging now than yelling.

"What was I up to? Five?" Bobby asked loudly. "Oh hell, I'll just start over and we'll go to thirty this time." He started again, the smacks just as hard and fast.

"Bobby!" Craig screamed. "Please?" He had never been spanked like that before. Bobby had smacked him at times, even Evelyn had given him little spankings when he was small, but he hadn't been spanked hard like that since he'd been at the Mercer home.

His father hadn't spanked him; he'd just beat on him, and even though that was worse than what Bobby was giving him now, having Bobby spank him like this seemed to hurt more intensely. Not physical pain, but on the inside. He had spent the past two days trying to understand his brothers. He'd always wanted to feel close to them, and be one of them. He had been trying to do what they wanted. Bobby had actually let him have his emotional fit in a park and beat on him. He had been starting to feel as if his brothers did actually care about him, and now Bobby had him lying over his knees, whipping him harder than the boy could have ever imagined. He could feel his resolve breaking. "I can't," He finally sobbed. "I can't."

"Yes you can, just open your mouth and start talking. Who am I like?" Bobby actually broke from the spanking, pulled the boy up as he stood, and held him in front of him, facing him. "Look at me."

Craig looked up at Bobby, and noticed a tear falling down the man's cheek. That held his attention for a long moment.

"Who am I like?" Bobby asked again. "Someone used to hit on you?" He asked the question quietly, no anger in his voice. "Did you get spanked a lot when you were little?"

Craig shook his head. He reached up to try to wipe away some tears, but Bobby took a hold of both of his hands. "We can sit back down and keep going kid. If you start talking to me, we can go and sit on the couch and maybe we can make this better. You keep lying to me, and I'm gonna sit back down here and we'll start all over again."

Craig shook his head. "Bobby, please? I can't!" He cried out, the tears racking at his voice.

"Why can't you?" Bobby asked.

Craig squeezed his eyes closed as pictures of his father flashed through his head. His father coming into his room late at night and crawling into his bed beside him, 'You can't tell, boy, or all hell will break loose.' He could hear his father's voice from behind, in his ear, just as he'd heard Stanley's voice from behind, 'I heard from a good source you was a good fuck.'

"Craig, open your eyes and look at me!" Bobby's voice rose in volume.

"I can't tell. I can't." Craig didn't open his eyes. His mind focused on his mother, his real mother, walking into the room, finding her husband lying on top of her son. She started screaming and hitting at the man. 'Get off of him you son of a bitch! Get off of my baby!' His mother had been an addict, but she had been a good mother for the most part.

Adam Macks had hidden what he did from his wife until that night. His eyes had turned to steel as he moved from the bed, and started beating on the woman. Her screams and his screams seemed to interweave until they sounded like one solid shriek. Then Adam Mack was holding a gun, aiming it at the woman, who was leaning up against the wall, bloody and bruised. He looked over at the six year old sitting in the bed, 'This is your fault you little fuck. This is what happens when someone finds out about what you do. It's your fault you know. If you hadn't made so much noise she never would have heard.'

"Craig!" Bobby's loud voice seemed to penetrate the memory.

Craig opened his eyes. "I can't Bobby! I can't." He cried. "Please? "

Bobby sat in the chair again, pulling the boy back down across his knees.

"He said I couldn't tell!" Craig cried out before Bobby had a chance to say a word. He could feel his fears growing, and Bobby's calm state was making it harder to resist saying the words.

Bobby didn't move. "What can't you tell?" Bobby asked loud.

Craig cried harder than before. "I can't, he'll come back." He sobbed. "He always comes back."

Bobby pulled the boy up and pulled him onto his lap, obviously sensing this was something that he had been waiting to hear. "Who comes back Craig?" He spoke quietly, in the same calming voice he'd used in front of the store two nights before. He wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his shoulder.

Craig let his head rest on Bobby, and shook his head. "He said it was my fault." He barely got the words out.

"Who is he Craig? Who are you so afraid of?" Bobby asked.

Craig held onto Bobby, suddenly wanting to feel that same security he'd felt in the back seat of Jerry's Volvo.

"Listen, whoever he is, he can't touch you now." Bobby let the words come slowly. "You are right here, with us. Do you really think we would let anyone hurt you? After last night, don't you know that we would kill to keep you safe?"

Craig fought to breathe as panic rose up from somewhere inside of him. "He always comes back. He came back last year." He didn't realize what he'd said until after it was out there for his brothers to hear.

"Last year?" Bobby looked confused.

"Mom had to hire that lawyer last year because of some ass hole." Jack reminded.

Bobby looked at Jack, then down at the trembling boy on his lap. "Son of a bitch," He muttered. "Who was it Craig? Who keeps coming back?"

"He'd leave, and things would get better, but then he'd come back and every time was worse than before." Craig remembered the times his parents had split up when he was small. His mother would get off the drugs for a short time, and things would seem to be better. Then his father would come back, and get her to using again. He'd keep her stoned so he could do what he wanted without her noticing.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "Tell me who." Bobby insisted. "Just say it and you'll feel better, I promise."

"I can't." Craig cried out.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Yes you can. Ma knew about it, you told her, didn't you?"

Craig shook his head. "I just showed her my pictures." He admitted.

A look of understanding crossed Bobby's face. "Okay, can you show us the pictures?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "No." He muttered.

Bobby and Angel made eye contact. Angel stepped out of the doorway, back into the living room, disappearing for a few moments. He came back, with Craig's sketch book in his hand.

Craig looked up and recognized his pad of memories in Angel's hands. He started to pull away from Bobby. "You can't do that!" He cried out.

"Yes, we can." Angel walked over to the table. "We're older than you, we're bigger than you, and we sure as hell have a right to know what the fuck is going on with you." He sat at the table and laid the book where Craig could still see it. "You can tell us, or we can open this and look at it."

Jack shook his head. "That's not his only pad." He spoke quickly. "Mom had more. She saved them, in a box, in the attic."

"Really," Bobby looked down at Craig. "We won't look at one single picture of yours, if you just tell me who the hell you are so fucking afraid of."

Craig started to pull away from Bobby, wanting nothing more than to grab his sketch pad and run.

Bobby's hold on him increased. "Who keeps coming back? Who was it that came back last year and gave Ma such a hard time?" He asked the question quietly.

Craig stared at the sketch pad. "My Dad," His voice was weak and trembling.

Bobby closed his eyes. "Did your Dad do the same things to you that Stanley tried to do?" He asked, his voice turning stiff.

Craig drew in a shaky breath and looked at Bobby. He shook his head slowly. "I don't want to talk about him." He tried to stand again.

"How could your Dad have ties to Stanley Miller?" Bobby asked. "That son of a bitch knew your Dad from somewhere, didn't he?"

Craig turned and looked at Bobby though his tears. "I don't know." He spoke weakly.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "What the hell did Stanley say to you in the store that night? He said something that you haven't told me, and I want to know now."

Craig could hear Stanley's voice in his head again. He repeated the words, slowly. "I heard from a good source you was a good fuck." He turned away from Bobby, not wanting to look at his brother.

Bobby looked over at Angel. "The sons of bitches that shot Ma knew your real father." He looked back at Craig. "How did he know him?"

"I don't know." Craig shook his head and tried make the tears stop falling. His ass was smarting, and that made it harder to stop crying.

"Don't tell me anymore lies Craig; I swear I will whip on your ass again." Bobby threatened again.

"I don't know!" Craig looked at Bobby. "I haven't had anything to do with my Dad since I was six years old! I don't know anything about him or who he does or doesn't know!" He cried out.

Bobby looked at him as if he didn't believe him.

"So, is that why you were taken away from your parents? Because of what your father was doing to you?" Jack asked the question from the doorway.

Craig looked at Jack, surprised by the question.

"Remember when I said you and I had a lot in common Craig? That wasn't a lie." Jack shook his head.

"He killed my mother." Craig muttered, some how finding comfort in Jack's words. He kept his gaze on Jack while he spoke. "And he shot me." His voice trembled. He felt a shiver run through his body.

"He shot you." Bobby stared at him. "He fucking shot you?" He nodded his head after a few moments. "That scar on your back. That was a bullet."

Craig closed his eyes. "I don't remember, I don't remember my mom, or that night, or even my dad most of the time, but I draw them…" He felt strange, telling this to his brothers. "Mom used to look at them, and she'd tell me she knew, and that she understood, but she never tried to make me talk about it. I can't talk about it."

Bobby seemed to relax slightly. "So, Green said with your history that you might need to see someone who could help you deal with it. What do you think?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "I used to see doctors. They just let me draw, and then would keep my drawings." He muttered. He finally looked at Bobby. "Is it my fault Mom was killed?" He asked the question weakly. "Do you think my Dad had anything to do with it?"

Bobby opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then closed it for another long moment. He adjusted his hold on Craig, taking hold of his jaw and holding it there so he couldn't look away. "No matter what, it's not your fault." He spoke quietly. "I don't know if there is a connection with the sack of shit you call 'dad', but the man obviously knew the shooters. We will look into that. Until then, don't be thinking it was your fault, it wasn't."

* * *

Victor Sweet walked out of the restaurant, pulling his coat around him to shield himself from the bitter cold. He walked towards the parking area, where his driver was waiting with his car. He had just finished addressing his men inside. He couldn't believe he kept any of them on his payroll as ignorant and senseless as most of them were. They respected him though, or at least it was close enough to respect for him. Fear and respect, weren't they the same? The one needed the other to exist. He needed them afraid, to keep them in line. A smile creased his lips as he remembered the look on Evan's face, on his knees, with his wife beside him, picking the pasta up off of the floor and placing it in their mouths. Evan had a lot of balls shoveling food into his fat mouth while Victor was addressing them all, the man deserved what he got. They needed his money. His smart-assed wife should have kept her mouth shut when Victor ordered her husband to eat his food off the floor like the dog he was. They would do anything for him, so long as he was paying them well. Of course, the threat he posed to their family's well being also helped to keep their respect. The knowledge that their children's lives were hanging in the balance was all it took to keep a man under his thumb.

In town shooters, shot dead in the street. He had known that would happen. He had instructed his people to hire out of town shooters because he was smart enough to know what would happen if the hired guns were from the streets of Detroit. Hired killers who would leave town once the job was done, he'd been quite specific. Now he finds out that the one man who should have kept his ass out of the whole affair was the one responsible for bringing in men that he knew. He had yet to catch up to Adam Macks, but once he did the man would regret making a decision on his own like that. Macks wanted his kid back, which was how it had been so easy to get him to work with him. He'd wanted the kid back, after so many years, he wanted to own him and possess him agan. It was hard for a sick fucker like him to give up on what he believes is his. Sweet had to smile at that. The man was a lot like him, but he didn't think big enough. He couldn't think past the following day. He was operating in the here and now, where as Sweet was intelligent enough to think beyond that, to the future, and all that he could be ten years from now.

Sweet was smart enough to have cops in his back pocket, and government officials. He knew how to make things happen so that no one could trace it back to him; until now of course, and that was all thanks to Adam Macks. The man who thought he knew better than him. He knew how to get back at Macks. Once he tracked down the men who killed the shooters, he would go after Macks' weak point, and make the man pay for going against his orders. Yes, he had plans for Adam Macks' prize possession.


	23. Chapter 23

Hello again all! As always tell me what you think, good or bad! I love to get opinions and thanks for reading!

Disclaim carries over to this one too!

**_Chapter 23 Stanley's Apartment_**

Craig sat at the table, stirring a spoon around in the bowl of ham and beans sitting in front of him. The day had been a long one. Once he'd told his brothers what they wanted to know, he'd told them how his father was supposed to be in prison, but had gotten out on some kind of technicality. He also admitted to them that he'd thought he'd seen his father a couple of times since Thanksgiving, but that he wasn't positive that it was him. "Well, if you think you see him again, you make sure to tell us. If he's been following you, then he's been following us." Bobby had told him. "And that can't be a good thing."

They hadn't really pushed him to talk much more after that. They, on the other hand felt the need to talk to him. They talked to him about what his father had done to him when he was small, telling him none of that was his fault, apparently thinking they were helping. Bobby went into a long speech about no matter what they found out about his father's involvement; Craig wasn't to feel that what happened to their mother was his fault. Bobby called Jeremiah and told him about the morning's events. He relayed to Jerry about Craig's father, and told him they needed to meet with the lawyer to find out exactly what had happened the year before. Jerry had promised to call the man the next morning, Monday, to set up a time when they could go in to his office.

Angel had served a hearty breakfast of frosted flakes, and then he and Bobby had spent the rest of the morning in the living room, with Craig in tow of course. Bobby still thought that Craig needed to be glued to someone's side at all times, mainly to his side. Bobby had let Craig have his sketchpad, and Craig had opened it and done some drawing, but not much, it was hard to concentrate with his brothers talking about the events of the night before, trying to analyze every last second of that whole night. Angel talked on the phone a few times to Sofi's brother, trying to find out what was going on with Bobby's car. Jack sat in the living room for a while, but then went up to his room where he could smoke and play his guitar. In between talking, Bobby and Angel watched television, and dozed off and on. Craig also found himself feeling drained of energy, and started to nod off. Bobby had noticed, and decided to take him upstairs for a nap. The nap had lasted nearly three hours. Craig had slept the whole time, and probably could have slept longer, but when Bobby woke, he made him get up with him to go downstairs.

When they got downstairs, Angel had announced that Sofi had made the ham and beans for lunch, and the pot was still on the stove. He'd also informed Bobby that Sofi's brother had brought his car back. It didn't look too great, but it would run, and the body's damage was covered up as well as it could be for the time being.

Bobby had made Craig sit with him at the table with a bowl of the beans and ham. Bobby had finished his meal nearly five minutes earlier, but Craig wasn't feeling hungry, and was sure he was about to get a lecture from Bobby, who was sitting there watching him stir the beans around in the bowl.

Bobby finally shook his head. "Why do you have such a hard time eating?" He asked quietly.

Craig looked up at his brother. "I'm just not hungry." He muttered, surprised that Bobby had asked him that question rather than starting to lecture him about eating even if he had to feed him.

Bobby stared at Craig thoughtfully. "Ma always made sure that you had something that you could eat with your hands, didn't she?" He asked.

"Only at diner," Craig spoke quietly.

"Why do you need to eat like that?" Bobby asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know it's easier that way." He looked back down at his beans and stirred some more.

"You gotta eat Craig. You want some bread and butter with that?" Bobby offered.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Okay." He accepted the offer. It was a better offer than the one having Bobby force the beans down his throat.

Bobby stood. "You don't move from the table, I'll be right back."

For the first time in days Craig found himself alone in a room while Bobby went to the kitchen. His brother returned a couple of minutes later with two pieces of bread coated with butter, and laid them on the table in front of Craig.

Craig picked up a slice of the bread, folded it, and proceeded to dip it into his bean soup. He found himself starting to eat the beans only minutes later. With the bread held in one hand, and the spoon in the other, it took less than five minutes for him to clean the bowl.

Bobby watched the whole time, and when the boy was done he shook his head. "You don't have that problem with breakfast." He muttered. "You ate a bowl of cereal this morning, and you had pancakes yesterday. You didn't have anything to hold in your hand then." He laughed.

Craig looked at Bobby, not sure what to say. It had been easier to eat with the bread in his hand, it just felt more comfortable. He couldn't explain it to Bobby, and he wasn't about to try. He had done enough talking that day to last a lifetime.

"You get stressed, and can't eat unless you have a hold of your food." Bobby shook his head and sighed. "I'll try to remember that." He stood, picking up his own empty bowl as well as Craig's, "Go on to the living room, I'll take these to the kitchen."

Craig was surprised Bobby was letting him go to another room alone. He stood and headed for the couch, since that was where Bobby seemed to always want him. He found Angel sitting on the end of the couch next to the desk. Jack had come down from his room and was sitting in the chair in front of the fire place. Craig stepped over Angel's legs and moved a couple of the throw pillows from the other end to give him a place to sit. He sat back, getting comfortable and looked at the television, which was set on a station playing an old western movie. He hadn't really paid much attention to Angel when he stepped over him, now he looked over to see him holding a brown wallet, pulling the contents out one item at a time and looking at it.

Bobby walked in moments later, stepped over Angel's legs, just as Craig had, and sat down next to him. He looked at Craig for a moment, and then looked at the object in Angel's hands. He reached out and took the wallet from Angel.

"What bastard hired these guys?" Bobby pulled Stanley's driver's license out of the wallet and looked at it. He glanced over at Craig, who was watching his brothers. "I doubt it was your father. There's something more to this." He spoke the words carefully. "Your father knew them maybe, but he didn't hire them. It takes big money to hire shooters and if he had that kind of money, I'm sure he would have had some big time lawyers in his corner last year."

Craig swallowed at the nerves that were threatening to work themselves back up into his throat. Bobby didn't think his father was behind Evelyn Mercer's murder, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Bobby drew in a deep breath while reading off the address on the license. "West Marine is by the river, right?"

"Yeah," Angel answered.

"Let's go take a look." Bobby tucked the driver's license back into the wallet while Angel stood. Jack stood as well. Bobby looked over at Craig. "You'll have to go with us. I'm not leaving you at home alone with the loco chick in the kitchen." He grinned as he stood.

Angel shot a look back at Bobby, but didn't say anything.

Craig stood, but wished there was some way he could stay home. He felt as if he could lie back down and sleep some more. He had spent so many days fighting sleep, not wanting to sleep, that his body was starting to feel the need to catch up on lost sleep. He'd slept well the night before, and he hadn't dreamed when Bobby had let him nap that afternoon. He would have been more than happy to sleep the rest of the day, and all night. Instead of suggesting he stay home and sleep, he followed his brothers towards the foyer, but they were all brought to a halt by Sofi, who appeared in the doorway, blocking Angel's path.

Angel looked at her determined glare and sighed. "Baby," He started.

"Now sweetie, wasn't there a discussion about a dinner together?" She kept her eyes focused up at Angel, her eyes narrow and her lips pursing into an angry smile, "Because I seem to remember spending two hours in the kitchen."

"We've got some important shit to deal with baby; can we not do this right now?" Angel spoke to her calmly, but it was clear to see he was feeling pressured by her.

At that moment Bobby started his razzing. "She's so 'Lavida Loca'." He had a smirk on his face, as he mimicked a bad Spanish accent.

Angel looked at Bobby, "Man don't do that right now."

"Shut up Bobby! Don't start with that crap!" Sofi looked at Bobby, pointing her finger at him.

Craig looked at the expression on Bobby's face. The man did in fact like Sofi; he could see that in Bobby's eyes. Bobby Mercer simply liked to get people riled up, and she had presented him with the perfect opportunity right then. He glanced at Jack, who was trying not to laugh.

Angel looked as if he could fire off bullets at both Bobby and Sofi at that moment. "Could you all not go there, please don't go there."

Bobby laughed. "You've got a new boyfriend every week." He looked at Sofi. "I want a girlfriend like you."

Sofi glared at Bobby. "Stop it!" She yelled, and then turned to Angel, reaching up to rest her hands on his shoulders. "Angel. Angel, you said this time was going to be different." Her voice changed to a pleading tone.

Bobby and Jack both gave each other looks, and Bobby was smiling. He turned back to Angel and Sofi, holding his hands over his heart. He started mocking Sofi in Spanish, trying to look hurt.

Sofi turned and walked away. Bobby stepped up to the same spot she'd been standing and looked at Angel. "She's getting' real comfortable here, huh? What are you doing? I thought you was a macho man, a tough guy." He shook his head when Angel looked at him as if he were being pulled in two directions and wasn't sure which way to go.

Angel sighed, and stared down at Bobby. It was obvious that the man was staying home.

"Man, it's a shame that little Jackie's the only one down to ride." Bobby glanced over at Jack and Craig. "Come one Jackie, grab your little brother and let's go." He turned and walked over to the coat rack, grabbing his leather jacket and pulling it on. "Say goodbye to your big sister Jackie, you too Craig, and let's go."

Jack let Craig walk past Angel ahead of him, the made his way past Angel, with a smirk on his face.

"Man, you gonna leave me too?" Angel looked at Jack.

Craig took his coat from Bobby, who was holding it out to him, and put it on. He looked back at Jack, but Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him on through the front door.

Angel turned as Jack moved to follow Bobby and Craig out the door. "I just need fifteen minutes man." He spoke as if he were trying to get them to wait.

"She's addicted." Jack laughed and turned behind him as he was closing the door to look at Angel, "To what Angel's dick did." He pulled the door to and followed Bobby and Craig off the front porch and into grey afternoon light. It was going on five o'clock by now, and the day's light was starting to fade.

Bobby led them to his car and got in on the driver's side. Jack opened up the passenger's door and let Craig climb into the back before getting in and closing the door.

Bobby laughed. "Well, boys, it looks like we have lost another brother to the other side." He looked at Jack, then back to Craig before starting the engine.

Jack laughed, "Hell, it's not so bad. At least she can cook." He looked out the window.

Bobby laughed. "Well, this time the brother ain't moving out of the house either. He seems to have moved her in." He looked back at Craig before putting the car in drive. "Next it'll be Jackie here finding himself a nice little man with the same skills as Sofi." He laughed.

Craig smiled at the joke, and for a change Jack didn't seem to get angry about it. Jack looked at Bobby and grinned. "I thought that's what I had you for." He cracked.

"Fuck you." Bobby shot back.

"Sorry, Bobby, but this Mercer don't swing that way." Jack repeated Bobby's own comeback from the day before.

Bobby glared at him. "You need to come up with something more fucking original." He shook his head as he pulled the car out onto the street and started driving. Bobby and Jack started trading jokes about Angel being wrapped around Sofi's little finger. When they got to the street they'd been looking for twenty minutes later Bobby repeated the street number that was on the license. "Eleven-o-six keep your eyes out for it." He spoke to no one specific, so Craig was watching out his side of the car.

As they reached the stop sign at a cross street, Craig looked out the window down the right end of the street. He looked past the house that sat on the corner, and his gaze fell on man in a grey coat and black hat walking their way, up the sidewalk. There was enough distance that he couldn't 

make out the man's face, no details at all. He sucked in a deep breath as his gut turned to ice from the old fear he was so used to. The form was the same as the man that had been watching him on the bridge Thursday night, and he was certain it was the same man from Friday, when they'd gone to Mr. Bradford's office. The grey coat stopped walking suddenly, and ducked to the corner of a garage, seemingly watching Bobby's car sitting at the intersection.

"Bobby," The boy spoke weakly.

Bobby glanced back at him, "Yeah?"

"I think that's my dad." Craig kept his eyes fixed on the grey coat.

Bobby looked surprised, and followed the boy's gaze. He twisted the steering wheel hard to the right and hit the gas, almost cutting off a car that was in the intersection.

The grey coat disappeared behind the garage quickly, as soon as he realized the car was coming towards him. Bobby slowed down enough to look down the side of the garage and see an alley ran behind it. "Son of a bitch," He hit the gas and drove until he came to anther street, taking another right, and then another as soon as he came to the mouth of the alley. He managed to hit every dip and rise in the uneven blacktop as he raced back towards the garage they'd seen from the street. Craig held onto the back of Jack's seat to try to keep his self from being rocked across the back seat. As they neared the back end of the garage Craig moved to look between the seats, through the windshield, keeping his eyes peeled for the grey coat and black hat that he'd come to associate with his father. He was sure they would run into him in the alley, but they came right back to the street they'd been on just before they came to stop sign.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Jack looked at Bobby.

"I don't know." Bobby glanced back at Craig. "You're sure that was him?"

"I don't know for sure, but I've seen that coat and the hat. I'm think it's my Dad." Craig spoke quietly. "Bobby, I swear, I seen him."

"Yeah, I know, I seen him too." Bobby spoke quickly. "I'm not sayin' I don't believe you." He looked up and down the street, and turned right. He came to a stop at the same sign as he had before. "He must live around here. He has to live around here." Bobby muttered. "He knew ole' Stanley because they're from the same neighborhood." He didn't seem to be talking to any one, just to himself. "Okay, Jack, let's find that address." He started driving again.

Craig sat back in his seat, unsure of what he felt at that moment. He had initially felt fear, but once he'd told Bobby about the man, the fear hadn't been so intense. His instinct would have led him to run in the opposite direction, but Bobby had headed straight at the man. Craig wondered if Bobby had caught up to him if his brother had any idea what he would have done next. He seemed to be pretty good at running head long into a situation, and then work his way through it with no real plan or course of action. What would he have done if they'd caught up to the grey coat and it had indeed been his father? Craig wasn't even one hundred percent sure that it was him. He'd seen the shape of the body, and every last nerve in his body told him it was Adam Macks, but what if it wasn't?

"Here, this is it." Jack spoke with no warning.

Bobby stopped the car and put it in park. He pulled his keys from the ignition, and reached into his jacket pocket. "Craig, put these on." He pulled out a pair of black gloves. "When we get in there you don't touch a fucking thing, but you keep these on just in case you fuck up and forget." He smiled, letting Craig know he wasn't angry, just being cautious.

Craig took the gloves, put them on and got out of the car as soon as Jack was out. Bobby led the way, taking hold of Craig's hand as they walked to keep him close. Jack followed close behind. They entered the apartment building quietly. The sun had set and the night was dark but it was still early evening and there was a chance of running into people. Bobby found the apartment fairly quick, and had come prepared. He picked the lock quickly and looked at Craig with a smirk. "Remind me to teach you this sometime, it might come in handy." He pushed the door opened and let Craig walk in first.

As soon as Craig was inside he froze. He wondered if Anthony was still living with Stanley, or if he even had a place to stay now that Stanley was dead. He hadn't really thought about Anthony that much in the past few days, and standing in that apartment brought him back to his thoughts, at least for a moment.

Bobby pushed his way past Craig, followed by Jack, who closed the door behind him. Both men held flashlights in their hands. Craig couldn't help but wonder where they'd had them tucked away. He hadn't noticed them when they got out of the car. The room was mostly dark. The only light came from the street lamps filtering thought he drawn curtains in the windows. It colored everything an odd shade of yellow/gold. Craig stood there, mesmerized for a second, before Bobby reached back and grabbed his arm, pulling with him through the apartment.

"Check everything Jackie, there has to be some shit around here that ties these bastards to somebody else." Bobby pulled Craig into the bedroom while Jack started tearing apart the living room. Craig watched Bobby check out the contents of the dresser before turning and looking at the bed.

He didn't expect it when Bobby lifted the mattress and pushed it off the opposite side of the bed. Laying on the box springs was an arsenal of weapons like Craig had never dreamed of. His gaze fell on the pump action lying in the middle of the large assortment of handguns. It differed from Bobby's sawed off slightly, but it was still familiar to the boy. It was the same gun that had fired the deadly shot into his mother, and had been shoved in his face only seconds later.

Bobby stood there silently looking at the guns for a long time before reaching down and picking up the very gun that Craig had been looking at. He studied it for a moment and a look came over his face, as if he thinking hard about something. His hands gripped the gun and he gave it one pump. The sound caused Craig to flinch, and the boy's movement seemed to bring Bobby out of his thoughts. The man looked around the room until he found a black duffle bag on the floor in the corner. He opened it and started loading the guns into it, not once saying a word about the weapon he'd been holding, or acknowledging that Craig was still in the room with him. He picked up the bag and held it by the straps in one hand. He looked at Craig and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go see if Jackie's been fucking off while we've been doing all the work." He motioned for Craig to walk with him out of the room.

Bobby led Craig out of the bedroom, aiming the beam of his flashlight at Jack, who was casually looking through some music CD's, "You dickin' around in there?" Bobby asked, "Find anything?"

Jack looked up at Bobby and held up a digital camera. "A camera," He answered.

Craig looked around the living room. The cushions on the couch had been tossed to the floor. The lamp at the end of the couch was overturned.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Come one." He headed towards the door. Jack tossed the DC's on the couch and motioned for Craig to walk in front of him.

Craig hadn't expected to be in and out of the apartment so fast. His brain wasn't spinning tonight like it had been the previous two nights while out with his brothers. This hadn't been all that exciting, but he was wondering if he was starting to get used to the excitement from the past few days. This should have had an element of danger to it, they did just break into someone else's apartment. Craig didn't feel the least bit anxious about it.

Evelyn Mercer had always been very careful to keep Craig sheltered, and looking back now, he wondered why she had raised him so differently than Bobby, Jerry, Angel and Jack. His brothers were street smart; they knew what they were doing. They knew how to think like hoods, in fact they seemed to be pretty good at being hoods. They didn't hesitate to hurt people if the need arose, and there was nothing they wouldn't do if they felt it needed done. Craig on the other hand couldn't stand the sight of blood, or the smell of it. He seemed to flinch at everything, and he wasn't so sure he wanted Bobby to teach him how to pick a lock, though his brother seemed to think it would be fun for him to have that skill. He did however want to feel as if he fit in with his brothers, and he was starting to feel that. Maybe what he needed was to learn some of the skills that Bobby wanted to teach him. He needed to pay attention to what they were doing. He had to be with them anyway, so he may as well drink in as much of it as he could. If he understood what they were doing better, maybe he could understand them better. He was finding that he could read them a little better than before. He understood that Bobby wasn't really as mean as he thought he was before. The man was just saying and doing the only things he knew to say and do. Also, Bobby didn't give a person a hard time if he didn't like them. If he liked you, he would hound you all the way to hell and back. If he didn't like you, he would just shoot you.

Craig was also starting to recognized fear in the eyes of all of his brothers, and he was suspecting that fear drove them on, just like it had been a driving force for him recently. They just channeled it differently than Craig did. Bobby would play hockey, and hit harder than he needed to. Angel would run some cons to ease his mind of worries or fears. Jerry it seemed had channeled his into hard work. Jack channeled a lot of his into music, but both could still fall back into their old routines if it was needed to accomplish something, like finding Evelyn Mercers killer.


	24. Chapter 24

I tried to get this up last night, but until they get my DSL switched over I'm suck with the free wireless that's floating around the area. It seems to come and go :(

Thanks to all who are reading, and even more thanks to those who are letting me know what you think! I did correct the mistake that was pointed out to me in the last chapter:)

Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, it's just for fun.

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* * *

_****_Chapter 24: He's a Lawyer_**

On the way home Bobby decided he was hungry. "Fucking ham and beans just ain't right." He muttered. He detoured from the route home, to go to a Chinese restaurant he liked and pick up some food.

Jack gave Bobby an irritated look when the man pulled into the parking lot. "You are kidding me, right?" He asked. "You are stopping off for Chinese when we have a fucking stash of guns in a black bag between my feet?" He pointed to the black bag which had been placed on the floor of the passenger side front seat.

"Don't you like having big guns between your legs?" Bobby laughed and shook his head. "Aren't you hungry?" He looked at Jack, ignoring the angry glare from the younger man. "You stay here with Craig, I'll be right back." He grinned and got out of the car. It took nearly twenty minutes for him to return with several bags.

"Damn Bobby, are you feeding a fucking army?" Jack started handing the bags back to Craig.

"I'm fucking hungry." Bobby announced, which was reinforced by the growl from his stomach.

When they got home, Bobby set the food out on the coffee table and sent Jack to the kitchen for beer while he grabbed the phone to try to call Angel, only to get his voice mail. Craig sat with Bobby on the couch, opening up containers and getting everything ready. Jack returned with beer for Bobby and milk for himself and Craig. Bobby looked at Jack's milk and smirked. "You are kidding, right?" He asked.

Jack looked down at his milk. "It's good for you. You should try it sometime." He spoke quietly. "It's good for your bones."

Bobby looked at Jack for a long moment. "You did not just say that." He shook his head.

Jack drew in a deep breath. "Don't turn that into something else Bobby."

Bobby looked at Craig and laughed. "Your big sister is funny." He started digging into the food in front of them.

"What about plates?"Craig asked quickly while both of his brothers started helping themselves to food out of the containers.

"We save on dishes this way." Jack spoke over a mouthful of food.

Bobby handed Craig a pair of chopsticks. "Don't be shy. You should eat something more than that fucking soup Sofi served up today."

"Fuck you Bobby!" Sofi called from the kitchen, letting it be known that she had heard him.

Craig did find eating at the coffee table much more entertaining than sitting at the dining room table. He liked Chinese food, and it was rare that he got it, since his mother hadn't splurged too much on takeout food. Eating straight from the containers was interesting too, it seemed a bit messy, but his brothers didn't seem to mind.

Twice during their meal Bobby tried again to call Angel, but wasn't able to reach him. After they had eaten, Craig started to pick the containers up, but Bobby pulled them out of his hands. "That can wait, come on I want you to see this. Maybe you can learn something." He stood and started walking to the living room.

Craig looked at Jack, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, he's like a kid with a new bag of candy. There is no stopping him."

Craig stood as Jack walked into the dining room and followed.

Craig sat at the table, with Jack standing over him, watching as Bobby pulled each gun out of the black bag, one at a time, examining each one carefully. Jack leaned over Craig to Bobby watching as the eldest brother rattled off what each was, and what it was capable of. "SIG Sauer, auto, that'll blow your back out." He spoke quietly as he laid the gun on the table and reached into the bag for another, "Nine millimeter Beretta." He set it down and pulled out another, "Oh, look at this Beretta; it's triple-action; three bullets at once." He made a point to show Jack, who leaned in further to get a better look. Bobby placed the gun next to the other Beretta on table, and reached into the bag for the next piece. "They say dead men tell no tales, but they sure leave important shit lying around." He pulled the hand gun out of the bag just at the sound of the front door closing rang through the house. Craig flinched at Bobby's arm swung out, aiming the gun towards the living room just as Jeremiah stepped into view.

"What the hell are y'all doin' now?" Jerry called out, stopping next to eh coffee table.

"Just getting' a head start on next year's taxes Jerry," Bobby pulled his arm down, laying the gun on the table.

Jerry looked around the living room, his gaze falling on the coffee table which hadn't been cleaned off. Condiment wrappers, packets of duck sauce and soy sauce littered the surface, as well as the half empty containers of food. "Look at how y'all doin Mama's house!" The man cried out as he looked back at Bobby and Jack. "Come on. Look at this table, man. Come on." He looked at Craig. "What the hell are you teaching the kid doin' shit like this?" He pointed to the table without looking down again.

Craig watched as Jack picked up the camera he'd found at Stanley's apartment and start to look at the pictures stored on it.

His attention was drawn back to Bobby as the man turned slightly to look at Jerry and nodded his head. "You know what? You're right." He turned to look at Sofi in the kitchen behind him. "Hey Sofi, why don't you do me a favor and clean up some of this shit, make yourself useful." He laughed.

Craig looked up in time to see a towel flying at Bobby's head. He managed to duck out of the way, but it hit the light fixture above the chair on the other side before landing on the floor.

Bobby laughed and turned back to the guns in front of him. "You missed." He spoke good-naturedly.

Jerry walked on into the dining room and started looking at the guns in front of him.

"Hey Bobby," Jack spoke quickly.

Bobby looked at Jack and leaned towards him, over Craig again, who was starting to feel slightly closed in. Craig ducked under Bobby's arms and sat back in his chair, looking up at the camera as Bobby scrolled through several pictures of their mother with Mr. Bradford.

"Where'd y'all get this?" Jerry looked through the guns.

"Our friend Stanley, the shooter, and former child molester," Bobby answered without looking away from the pictures on the camera.

"Let me see that." Jerry reached over and took the camera to look.

"They were tracking Mom." Bobby commented.

"That's that guy." Jack pointed towards the camera. "That's that lawyer guy. That shithead said…he only met her once Bobby." Jack sounded upset.

"Jack, he…" Craig started to tell his brothers about Mr. Bradford, knowing what was going through their minds.

Angel walked in at that moment, and Bobby turned to him, "Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to call you all day." He cried out, greatly exaggerating the extent of his attempts at reaching Angel, and cutting off Craig's words.

"Bobby, Mr. Bradford…" Craig tried again.

"Following up new leads," Angel looked at Jerry, who was staring at the collection of guns on the table.

Bobby ignored Craig's hand on his arm, and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair the boy was sitting in while he dropped the gun he'd been holding back into the bag. "Yep," He muttered. "Let's go."

"You ain't dragging Craig out on this are you?" Jerry asked quickly.

"He goes where we go." Bobby grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Ain't that right kid?" He looked back at Jeremiah, "Jerry, you comin' with us?" He looked hopeful. "Don't you wanna find out who hired 'em?"

"Yeah, don't you wanna find out who killed Mom?" Angel asked. Craig sensed something in his voice that he couldn't quite place, and the way he was looking at Jerry reminded him the look he'd given to Keenan at the gym just one day earlier, but he couldn't think of a reason for Angel to be pissed at Jerry. How could any one of his brothers be pissed at Jerry? The man was considered the 'good' son of the family.

Craig found himself looking at Jerry, waiting for an answer. He glanced up to see his other three brothers staring at Jerry as well.

"Of course I do, man." Jerry shook his head. It was then that Craig realized Jerry was holding back something. He wasn't sure what it was, but something told him Angel might know.

Bobby pulled Craig in to move in front of him. "Stop bullshittin'." He looked at Jack, and then glanced to his other side at Angel and Jerry. "Come on."

Craig could hear Jerry's voice. "Alright, somebody's gotta look out for y'all clowns."

"Oh, so now you're callin' us clowns." Angel spoke up.

"Well I call it like I see it." Jerry was right behind Jack and Bobby.

Craig stopped at the bottom of the back porch steps and turned to look at Bobby. "Bobby, you aren't gonna…" He started to speak. He could hear Angel and Sofi exchanging words, and as usual Sofi didn't sound happy.

"Craig, I'm sure you like this lawyer guy, I mean he seemed real nice, but some people aren't as nice as they put on. Now get in the car and don't argue." He spoke calmly.

"But Bobby, he didn't…" Craig started again.

"Look, I know he won against your Dad in a courtroom, but that don't mean he wasn't a part of this whole thing. Now not another word, get in the fuckin' car." Bobby's voice rose slightly.

Craig drew in a deep breath and turned to walk to the car. He couldn't believe Bobby wouldn't listen to him. It suddenly felt like it old times, with Bobby ignoring everything the boy said.

The drive to Robert Bradford's home was a long one. The man was a lawyer, and he lived in a very nice house. Craig had been there a few times, but didn't volunteer to help his brothers find it. He was irritated by the fact that they wouldn't listen to him. Robert Bradford was a good man, he had nothing to do with their mother's murder that was a fact the boy was certain of. His brothers didn't know about his mother and Robert, and they wouldn't' listen to him so that he could explain it. Angel used his cell phone to get an address for the man, and then again to get direction with the GPS the phone had. After forty minutes of being cramped in between Jack and Jerry in the back seat of the car, Craig was thankful when Bobby pulled his car to a stop half a block from Robert Bradford's large stone house.

Craig thought he would give it one more try as his brothers were climbing out of the car. Angel stood at the passenger door holding the seat up for the boy to climb over.

"Angel, this is a mistake. Mr. Bradford…" he started to speak, hoping Angel would be level headed enough to listen to him.

"Craig, get your ass out of the fucking car." Angel spoke calmly.

Craig sighed and got out of the car. He followed his brothers around to the back of the car. Bobby opened the trunk and handed Angel, Jerry and Jack each a flashlight. He looked down at Craig. "You still got those gloves I gave you earlier?" He asked before leading them up the street, across the yard, and around to the back of the house to the door that led into Robert Bradford's family room. Craig assumed they thought it would be safer than breaking in the front door where they would be visible from the street. He fought the temptation to walk back to the front of the house, pick up the fake rock that rested in the mulch next to the front steps and get the key to the house; instead he pulled the gloves out of his pocket as he walked with his brothers, and put them on. Bobby wouldn't let him out of his sight right then anyway so there was no point in trying.

Craig watched his four brothers lean close to the French doors at the back and peer into the room. "We might have to spend the night up in this bitch." Bobby commented when he seen the interior of the house. He held up his flashlight and used it to break a glass panel in the door. He reached in and unlocked the door.

As Bobby pushed the door open, Robert's slightly overweight and extremely spoiled poodle, Petunia, made her way up to the door. "An attack dog," Bobby sounded amused. "You don't wanna bite me, do you?" He scooped the dog up into his arms and gave her a pat. "You gonna bite me baby?"

Angel gave Craig a nudge to follow right behind Bobby. Craig could feel Jack move in right behind him. He heard the door being pulled closed as the men made their way through the house. Bobby glanced back at Craig. "Man, this guy lives good." He commented as he led them all through the downstairs, until they found Robert's study.

Craig watched as his brothers started going through drawers of the desk and books and papers on the shelves. Jack sat down at the desk and opened up Bradford's laptop. Moments later he sat up straight. "Hey Bobby, check this out." He spoke up. Bobby moved up to Jack's left side to look at the computer screen. He was still holding Petunia in his arms, petting on her. Angel moved up to Jack's right side. Jerry was beside Bobby. Craig didn't bother to walk over; he stood on the opposite side of the desk, looking at his four brothers, wondering what they were going to do once they found out about the relationship between the lawyer and their mother.

"I found Bradford's calendar. You don't think E.M. stands for Evelyn Mercer, do you?" Jack looked up at Bobby, and then let his gaze moved to Jerry and Angel.

"You're getting' good at this Jackie." Bobby studied the calendar.

"November twenty first." Angel spoke, shaking his head. "He met up with her the night she died. Why would anybody meet up with their lawyer at eight o'clock at night?" He turned and looked at Bobby.

Bobby looked across the desk at Craig, and looked as if he were about to speak when the sound of a car honking, and Sofi's loud, shrill voice filled the air around them. "Angel! Angel, come out! I see you in the window, you idiot! I know you're in there!"

Now all eyes focused on Angel, who looked like he could crawl under a rock to hide at that moment. Bobby glared at the younger man. "Nice. Your girlfriend's here." He spoke with sarcasm.

"She's crazy man." Angel muttered.

"Well go shut her up then!" Jack gave Angel a look as well.

"People, there's robbers in the house!" Sofi persisted in honking the horn and yelling as loud as she could. "Come out Angel! I'm calling the police now!"

Angel let out a heavy sigh, hung his head slightly and started walking towards the hall. "Ya'll come out here with me, this girl is crazy." He walked around the desk, past Craig and out the door.

Jack stood, followed Jerry and Bobby in the same direction Angel had gone. Craig hesitated a moment, but Bobby back stepped past Jerry and Jack and gave him a look. The boy followed quickly, catching up with his brothers in the family room. Bobby gave the dog one last pat and gently set her down on the sofa. "There you go 'poochie'. You are one hell of a dog." He spoke in a goofy, playful voice, and then quickly followed the rest of the Mercers out the door and around the house to meet up with Sofi who was now at the side of the house. Angel grabbed Sofi's right arm, and Craig watched as each of his brothers grabbed either an arm or a leg and started carrying her back towards her VW still parked in the exit of the circle drive. Her loud voice persisted and she was kicking and fighting against them the whole way.

"You better call immigration on this girl." Jack spoke in between Sofi's yells. He was holding onto her left arm.

Bobby spoke, "You gotta real class act here." He had Sofi's right leg, leaving the left leg to Jerry. "She should be at Guantanamo Bay." He looked pissed, but he actually laughed.

The lights of a car caught Craig's attention, and he turned to see Robert Bradford steering his car into the drive way. "Damn." The boy muttered.

Bobby's attention was drawn to the sound of the car engine. He turned to see the car pulling up behind them and dropped the leg he was holding onto. Jerry also turned, and dropped Sofi's other leg, following Bobby quickly, trying to catch up to him.

Robert rolled down his car window and looked at Craig for a long moment, then to Bobby and Jerry moving towards him. "Excuse me. What are you doing?" He asked the question calmly, as if finding strange men in his front yard was a normal occurrence.

Of course Craig knew why the man wasn't too worried. Evelyn had talked very highly of her sons to him. She'd been proud of each and every one of them. She had warned Robert of course that they did tend to be hot heads, and that was why she didn't want them to know about her relationship with the lawyer. She was afraid they would switch into their protective mode and make poor Robert's life hell. Rober Bradford was a very quiet, peaceful man, and Evelyn Mercer didn't want him to have to go through that. She had planned on telling her sons when she felt the time was right. Until then it was one of those secrets Craig had always felt special to be a part of.

"How are you doing buddy?" Bobby reached the car door and pulled it open just as Jerry caught up to him.

Jerry slapped Bobby on the arm, pretty hard from what Craig could see. "Bobby! Bobby, he's a lawyer!" He spoke quickly.

Jack let go of his own hold on Sofi when he seen what had drawn Bobby and Jerry away from their mission to silence Sofi, and headed in the same direction to find out what was going on.

Sofi was still fighting against Angel, hitting at him, and Craig was sure she was swearing in Spanish. Angel let go of her, as she hit at his arm, and also turned to the scene playing out in the front drive of the very nice property they had trespassed onto.

"What's going on here?"Robert asked loudly, apparently starting to get nervous at how aggressive Bobby was at that moment.

"He's a liar Jerry!" Bobby grabbed the older gentleman and pulled him from the car.

Sofi hit at Angel again, saying something to him that Craig couldn't make out, but the boy was more interested in what Bobby was doing.

"Ain't nobody's fucking business; stay away!" Angel yelled at Sofi before turning to walk towards the encounter taking place.

"Come here!" Sofi called after Angel, but didn't follow.

"You heard me old man!" Bobby pulled Robert around and pushed him down into the snow, pulling his sweater and dress shirt up over his head, revealing his bare stomach." You fucking lied to me. You said you didn't even know my mother. You were the last person to see her alive!" He spoke with a threatening tone.

"Bobby!" Craig walked up to stand next to Jack. "Bobby don't!" He called out.

Bobby smacked the man's stomach hard, causing the man in the snow to cry out into his sweater. "Look at that Jerry; it leaves a nice big red hand print, huh?" He looked up at Jerry.

"Just ask him the question, come on." Jerry spoke looked at Bobby, remaining calm.

"Bobby stop," Craig tried again.

Angel stepped up on Craig's other side.

"No, I'm gonna do it again," Bobby smacked the man's stomach a second time. "And again, until I find out what I wanna know."

"Oh God," Robert cried out in fear.

Angel stepped over, with a slight smile on his face, reached around Bobby to Robert Bradford's red stomach, and got his own strike in. "Tell him!" He yelled at the man.

"Okay. Okay. I'll explain." Robert struggled to pull his clothing back down to cover his obviously stinging stomach. "It's just that I… I felt so guilty."He looked at the men hovering above him.

"Guilty for what?" Jeremiah asked with a surprised tone. It didn't seem he expected that kind of response from the man.

Robert looked over at Craig, then back up at the men. "I'm not even sure I know how to say it." He focused on Jerry.

"Say what?" Bobby asked. He looked a little taken by Robert's relatively calm demeanor at that moment, and it seemed he was re-thinking the possibility of the man being a part of their mother's murder.

"Your mother and I were…were seeing each other socially." Robert admitted with a shaky voice.

"Socially," Bobby looked confused.

"I didn't want to sully your mother's reputation." Robert's expression seemed to transform into one of pride. "She was a fine, fine woman."

Bobby looked over at Craig, then from one brother to another until he had made eye contact with each before he reached down and helped the man to his feet. "I know, I know." He now sounded as if he regretted his course of action at that moment.

"I have some of your mother's night things, if you want. They..." Robert still sounded nervous.

"What?" Bobby looked shocked at the offer. "No. No, it's not necessary." He quickly brushed the snow off of Robert's coat. "You okay?" He asked him.

"Too much information," Jerry growled out the words as he looked to the night sky.

Angel returned to Sofi, to try to get her back to her car. Jerry and Jack followed. Each of them glared at Craig as they passed him. The boy could do no more than laugh quietly at the situation. They certainly had gotten some information from Robert Bradford, but not what they had been expecting. Craig returned his attention to Bobby and Robert.

"I apologize, Mr. Bradford. We broke your back window. We're just trying to find out what happened to my mother." Bobby spoke to the man very calmly.

Craig could see Bobby's cheeks turning red, and he wasn't sure if it was from the cold or if he was seeing Bobby Mercer blush for the first time in his life. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought.

"I understand." Robert nodded his head. He looked over at Craig.

"Thank you, I appreciate that." Bobby looked up at the house. "You have a very nice home here."

"Thank you." Robert looked back at Bobby. "But, why didn't you just use the key?" He asked.

Bobby looked at the man for a moment. Mr. Bradford looked at Craig, and Bobby followed his gaze.

"I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen to me." Craig spoke quietly, suddenly feeling guilty and not sure as to why.

Bobby sighed and moved away from the man, grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him in the direction his brother's had gone. "You and I are going to have a very long talk when we get home young man." He was speaking in that calm voice that he used when he was concealing a threat.

"I tried to tell you." Craig let Bobby pull him along.

"You could have told us days ago. What was wrong with telling us on Friday?" Bobby asked. "Fuck, I just hit on Ma's boyfriend for God's sake!"

"He didn't want to tell you Friday, he could have; and Mom said she was afraid you'd beat him up or something." Craig spoke honestly. "I don't know where she'd get that idea." He spoke sarcastically. "Besides, it was her business, no one else's." He wasn't worried about Bobby's threat.

"You should have told us." Bobby let go of his arm and dropped it across the boy's shoulders. "So what was the dog's name?" He asked.

Craig laughed. "Petunia," He answered.

Bobby laughed at the name. "Well she looked like a Petunia."


	25. Chapter 25

As always, let me know what you think :) and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer still counts

* * *

**_Chapter 25: Finesse_**

Angel rode back with Sofi, so Jerry sat up front with Bobby, which left plenty of room in the back seat, and for that Craig, who sat behind Jerry was thankful. They had only been driving for a few minutes, when Jack's hand shot up and smacked Craig in the left arm.

"Ouch!" Craig cried out. "What was that for?" He asked, though he was sure he knew.

"Why in the hell didn't you tell us about Mom and Mr. Bradford?" Jack asked in a loud voice. "We looked like real fucking idiots back there!"

"I tried; no one would listen to me." Craig couldn't keep the laugh out of his voice.

"You tried? When the hell did you try?" Jack cried out.

Jerry turned and looked at Craig. "We went to his office on Friday. You didn't think it would have been a good idea to let us know about his relationship with our mother then?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders.

"He thought it wasn't his place to tell us shit." Bobby spoke up, defending the youngest Mercer, which surprised Craig. "Admit it kid, you enjoyed watching us make fools out of ourselves." He glanced back at Craig who thought he could see a smile behind Bobby's eyes.

"Well, it was kind of funny." Craig muttered. "You smacked the man on his stomach." He laughed.

"A very nice man, it seems. He didn't deserve that." Jerry spoke up. "My God, he wanted to give you Mom's night things." He looked at Bobby, and after a few moments he started laughing. "The look on your face when you realized what the fuck he was trying to tell us, man, now that was classic."

Jack started laughing as well. "I don't know, Mom sure wouldn't have thought it was funny."

"Yeah she would have." Jerry spoke quickly. "I believe Bobby got all flushed out there man. His face turned red, and his eyes were so fucking wide…" Jerry laughed a little harder. "Mom would have loved that."

"Yeah, laugh it up Jerr'. I'm sure you got that sick feeling in your gut when you thought about our mother screwin' around with some guy." Bobby shook his head. "Damn, that don't even sound right."

"Well she was a woman Bobby. Don't you think she seen guys when we were younger? She went out on dates and shit." Jack pointed out.

"But she didn't hide it from us for us to find out later by snooping around." Bobby pointed out. "And none of them was serious. Hell, she'd date a guy for a few months and then…"

"And then we'd find a way to run 'em off." Jerry spoke quietly, cutting off Bobby's statement before it could be completed.

"We never ran any of them off. We just made it clear they were to treat her with all the fucking respect a real lady deserved. If they could give her that they didn't have a fucking thing to worry about. None of them assholes were worth shit, or they would have stuck around despite us."

"Did you even hear what the hell you just said?" Jerry asked and then shook his head. "Most of those men were okay." He commented. "They just weren't up to taking on four delinquents." He sighed. "This guy, now I bet he treated Mom with all kinds of respect. He even kept her night things." He laughed.

"He has a nice house too." Jack commented. "Why couldn't Mom have met up with him ten years ago? I could see myself growing up in that house."

Jerry turned and looked at Jack. "Yeah, right, us in that house as kids? It would have burned down in less than a week." He turned and gave Bobby a knowing look.

"Hey, one tree house and I never live it down. That's just fucking wrong." Bobby shook his head.

They were all quiet for a while. Craig rested back in the seat and let his eyes close. He was tired, and really shouldn't be. He'd napped for three hours that day. As they rode, he thought back to the events of the weekend. It had been a long weekend, but at the same a lot of things had happened in a short time, and his brothers weren't done yet. He was certain more was coming. He just couldn't imagine what.

When they returned to the house, there was no sign of Angel or Sofi, though her car was parked in the drive behind the house. Craig sat on the couch with Bobby, and watched as his brother flipped the stations on the television. Jerry stayed for a while, sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, watching the channels pass by. Jack went upstairs.

"Man, why don't you find a station and leave it there?" Jerry looked at Bobby.

"Hell, that's no fun. This way I get to watch everything." Bobby shot back.

Jerry looked at Craig. "You know, you have school tomorrow." He commented. "You should be getting ready for bed."

Craig looked at Jerry, and then up at Bobby, he hadn't thought about school for the past few days. It had been the furthest thing from his thoughts since his mother died, though he knew he would have to go back, he honestly wasn't sure he was ready to return the following day.

"He ain't going to school tomorrow." Bobby shook his head. "He has to be with one of us at all times, and it's not like we can go to school with him." He went back to flipping the stations.

"What?" Jerry laughed. "You can't keep him home another day. The school will be raising hell."

"He can go on Tuesday. He needs another day. I'll call in the morning and let them know." Bobby glanced down at Craig. "Sound okay?"

"I am going to be pretty far behind." Craig pointed out. "Maybe I should go." Not that he wanted to go, but Jerry did have a point. The school might very well cause a problem if he missed another day. He didn't know how many days out of school was considered normal if a parent died, but he'd missed all of the week before Thanksgiving. His mind tried to reason that Thursday and Friday there had been no school because of Thanksgiving so they didn't count, but he knew the school wouldn't reason that out the same way.

"No." Bobby shook his head. "I'm not ready for you to go to school yet."

"You aren't ready for him to go yet?" Jerry wasn't laughing that time. "Damn, Bobby, are you going to suffer through some sort of separation anxiety shit or what?"

"No, I'm not ready for him to go yet." Bobby looked at Jerry. "We're still looking into this shit, and I'm not so sure I want him separate from us, even if it is at school."

"Its school man, ain't nothin' gonna happen to him there." Jerry argued.

"I said he can go on Tuesday." Bobby looked down at Craig again. "We'll get Jerry to come over and help you get caught up on what you need to make up." He spoke casually.

"Oh really, you're gonna get Jerry to come over and help him get caught up?" Jerry looked amused by the statement. "You can help him get caught up."

"You're the fucking scholar in the family Jerr'. You wouldn't want me to help him really, now would you? You remember some of the papers I turned in when I was in school, don't you?" Bobby returned his attention to the television, as he came to a 'Simpsons' rerun. "Oh hell yeah, Bart's on." He set the remote control down on the couch next to him.

Craig looked at Jerry. "You really wouldn't do that to me, would you?" He asked Jerry.

Jerry smiled. "Hell no man, I couldn't do that to you." He shook his head.

Bobby laughed and looked at Jerry, then down at Craig. "It is getting late though; I guess you should go to bed and try to get back to a normal schedule with your sleeping."

Jerry stood. "Well, I'm getting out of here. Camille is gonna be wondering where I am. Call me tomorrow and let me know what the fuck is going on." He walked towards the front door.

"Yeah, we'll do that." Bobby picked up the remote and turned the television off as Jerry walked out. "Come on kid, let's get some sleep."

Once in the bed Craig fell asleep quickly, and the sleep was good for most of the night. The dreams started in the early morning hours. He could feel his mind being sucked into the replay of his father shooting his mother. The sounds seemed more intense than normal, and his father's face seemed much more vivid. Then the images morphed into Evelyn Mercer lying on the floor, and the blood flowed from her body like a river across the floor towards him. He turned to run, trying to get away from the smell of the blood, but the warm, sticky liquid was raging towards him, and when it caught up to him it seemed to penetrate his whole body, sucking the air out of him. The images of the store around him disappeared and he was surrounded by red, nothing but red. Then he started screaming for Bobby, calling for him to make it stop.

He heard Bobby's voice after what seemed forever; telling him it was okay, that he could wake up. Craig opened his eyes instantly, and found himself sitting in the bed, with Bobby's arm around him. Tears were flowing freely, he was drenched in sweat and he felt as if he couldn't breathe, but once his mind was able to focus, he sucked in air. Bobby was sitting next to him, with an arm around him, talking quietly, though Craig couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

Craig leaned into Bobby and let himself cry. Bobby stopped talking and let him rest against his shoulder for a long while. His shirt was sticking to him from sweat, and he felt nauseous for a while, until his mind started to calm down.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?" Bobby asked quietly after some time.

Craig shook his head. "No." He spoke with a shaky voice, and wished he could make himself calm down. "I'm sorry…" He started to say.

"Fuck, I told you before, don't be saying that." Bobby reminded. "Not for shit like this." Bobby yawned. "You want to change your clothes?"

Craig shook his head. "I can just take my shirt off." He reached up with his hands and wiped the tears away.

Bobby helped him out of his shirt, and waited until he'd laid back into the pillow before laying back himself. "Are you gonna be able to sleep?"

"Yeah," Craig muttered, though he wasn't certain at that moment he could actually fall asleep again. He didn't want Bobby to think he had to stay awake with him.

It took nearly an hour, but Craig was able to fall back into a restless sleep, finally. He could feel himself moving onto his side, and then onto his stomach several times. He felt Bobby's arm drop over him after a while, and he couldn't roll over any more, though he tried a few times. Bobby would hold him in place, and tell him to keep still. He finally fell back into a decent sleep, and woke on his own to the light of day filtering in though the window. He could hear the shower running, and when he rolled over he found Bobby was gone, and the door was wide open.

Craig got out of bed and rubbed his eyes to try to wake up. His bladder started aching as soon as he was on his feet. He wondered out into the hall, to the bathroom, assuming Bobby was in the shower. He found the door open, and Bobby sitting on the toilet.

Bobby looked up at him from the paper he was reading. "What the fuck are you doing out of bed?" He asked.

"I have to pee." Craig answered.

Bobby laughed. "Not yet you don't." He looked back at his paper. "Take a seat." He used his free hand to point to the bath tub without looking up again. "Watch it though, Jackie's in the shower."

Craig didn't question his brother; he walked over to the far end of the tub and sat on the edge. "What time is it?" He asked sleepily, still not quite awake.

"You see a clock in here?" Bobby glanced up at him. "You could have looked before you went roamin' around the house by yourself after you were told you don't go anywhere without one of us."

Craig looked at Bobby, and started to apologize, but stopped himself. "I'm not awake yet, I didn't think." He muttered.

"Yeah, I know." Bobby turned the page on the paper.

"Lay off him Bobby." Jack spoke from the shower.

"I'm his older brother; it's my fucking job to be an ass with him." Bobby spoke loud enough for Jack to hear. He looked up at the shower, "I didn't yell at him, did I?" He asked.

"Hey, Bobby," Angel called from the hallway.

"Yo," Bobby answered without looking up from his paper.

Angel walked into the restroom, and stopped at the door, trying to wave away the stench from Bobby's session on the toilet. "Hey man, I gotta ask you a question." He looked worried.

"What's up?" Bobby looked up.

"You know me and Sofi did a lot of making up last night." Angel sighed.

"You gave her that ring, huh?" Bobby looked amused.

Craig looked up at Angel, surprised by Bobby's words. Well, Bobby was right, it looked like they had indeed Angel to the other side, but obviously Bobby had known about the ring already.

"Yeah," Angel nodded his head. "But it seems like I gotta a little rust on the tool." He started pulling away his robe to reveal his 'tool'.

Craig turned away immediately. "Angel…" He stared at the sink, avoiding the view.

"Woe, woe, woe." Bobby waved Angel off with his paper. "Ask the cockologist in the shower, man." Bobby spoke quickly.

"How the hell should I know?" Jack asked from behind the shower curtain.

"You're the expert." Bobby glanced over at Craig, and then looked back to his paper.

Craig heard the shower curtain move, and moments later Jack spoke again. "Rug burn, you're gonna live."

Craig felt the shower curtain close behind him as Jack retreated back behind the curtain.

"Thank God, man. I thought my luck ran out." Angel sounded relieved.

Craig looked back, thankful to find Angel had closed his robe back. His bladder still ached and he really wished Bobby would hurry.

Angel started to walk out of the room, but stopped and turned back. "Hey listen, man. You know, Jerry ain't been straight up with us about that redevelopment project. Found out his dream's dead. Jerry got involved with some bad people. City got on him about fraud and whatnot. Cut his loans off, like, a month ago. Technically, Jerry's really broke." He spoke the words carefully.

Bobby looked at Angel like he hadn't heard a word the man had said, but then seemed to bring his self out of the surprised state he was in. "You think this had something to do with what happened to Mom?" He sounded confused.

"No, I'm saying that it's something that we should look into. I need y'all to go down and visit this city official named Douglas. He'll know who Jerry got mixed up with." Angel drew in a deep breath. "I'm gonna go check on some other shit."

"What are you talking about?" Bobby seemed to sit up a bit straighter. "Why don't you just tell me what you know Angel?"

"I know you need to stay your ass on that porcelain. This is gonna require a little finesse, and given your prior reputation as a hothead…" Angel spoke with a tone of authority that Craig rarely heard anyone use with Bobby.

"I wrote the fucking book on finesse!" Bobby spoke loud, waving the paper at Angel, speaking while Angel was still talking.

Craig heard the shower shut off and moved from the end of the tub so that Jack could get out past him and start drying off.

"You gonna be the first to fuck up." Angel finished what he was saying and turned to walk out of the room. "Yeah, whatever," He spoke as he walked down the hall.

"Wait for me to wipe my ass Angel!" Bobby yelled as he reached for the toilet paper. "I'm coming with you!" He pulled at the tissue, only to pull the last small piece from the cardboard roll.

Jack pulled a towel around him and turned towards the sink.

"Get me some fucking toilet paper Jack!" Bobby looked over at Jack.

"You are kidding, right?" Jack motioned to his towel.

"Craig, go get me some fucking toilet paper." Bobby spoke loud, and turned to the door, "Angel!"

"I'm not supposed to roam around the house alone." Craig couldn't resist saying it; though by the look on his brother's face he regretted it immediately. He stepped past Bobby quickly and went to the small closet in the hall to grab a clean roll of toilet paper and walked it back to Bobby. He heard Angel's door open and close while Bobby was still finishing up on the toilet. He turned and looked through the door to see Angel walking down the stairs quickly.

Bobby flushed the toilet, stood and pulled up his pants before he moved from the room quickly. "Angel!" He headed straight down the stairs.

"Thank God!" Craig stepped up to the toilet and pulled down his sweatpants to pee.

"You too?" Jack cried out. "Fuck, can't anyone have any privacy in this house?"

Craig did what he needed to, then put the toilet seat down and sat. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere by myself." He reminded Jack.

Jack just gave him a look that told him he was irritated. Bobby returned moments later. "Craig, get your clothes from your room and get a fucking shower." He told him. "Then you come downstairs and eat some breakfast."

Craig started to repeat that he was not allowed to go anywhere by himself, but Bobby crossed his arms in front of him. "I have to let you start doin' shit on your own; I can't keep you tied to my side forever. So I guess you're not on restriction any more, you're just fucking grounded. Now go."

Craig wasn't sure why he felt disappointment at Bobby's statement. He was certain he hadn't like the whole restriction thing that Bobby had come up with, he really hadn't. He wanted to be able to get up and walk from one room to another when he felt like it, and now Bobby was telling him that he could.

He walked out of the rest room and went to his room for his clothes. When he returned the bathroom was empty, and he felt an empty feeling in his gut. He didn't like being alone.


	26. Chapter 26

Thanks for reading, as always :)

Disclamer still counts for this one!

* * *

**_Chapter 26: Councilman, Sir_**

Craig took his time in the shower, and regretted it quickly. Jack had used most of the hot water. He had to rush towards the end, rinsing his soapy hair and body with cold water. He shivered as he dried off, and then started to dress. He looked at himself in the mirror. His brown hair was getting a little longer than Evelyn had liked it. She had always made sure that his hair was no longer than his shirt collar, and cut in layers to keep it neat and out of his face. That was something she couldn't stand, was hair that got in a person's eyes. He leaned into the window and looked at his eyes. They were hazel, but they seemed to change color from time to time. Sometimes they looked grey, and at other times they could look green or blue. Today it seemed they were going have a green hint to them, with the grey mixed in.

The dark circles that had been under his eyes just a few days ago were mostly gone, but he thought he could still see a hint of them. He pulled on is underwear and jeans, and tested how loose they were on him. They weren't as bad as they had been. He'd been eating and sleeping more, so his body was putting some weight back on. He was by no means fat, but he was getting closer to what he should be. As he pulled on his t-shirt, his attention was drawn to his self induced scratch on his left arm. It looked much better. He had forgotten that it was there, and it seemed to be healing faster than he thought it would. He tucked his shirt in, and reached for the brown flannel shirt he'd grabbed from his room. It was a pull-over, and it was a little large for him.

Most of his clothes were hand-me-downs from his brothers, and they varied in sizes. Evelyn had altered them the best that she could, but most of them were either too long, too baggy. He didn't mind though. It wasn't as if he went anywhere that he needed to dress up, usually. Jerry had actually gone out and bought him clothes to wear to their mother's funeral. That had been the first time Craig had really had brand new dress clothes. Evelyn would take him shopping for new jeans, t-shirts and underwear from time to time, but rarely did he get new shirts.

He looked at himself in the mirror once he was dressed and stood on his toes, trying to see if he could stand at tall as Bobby yet. Bobby was the oldest, but the shortest of his four brothers, and sometimes the boy thought he was never going to grow past Bobby's shoulders.

He picked up the comb and started combing his hair back. He'd never tried combing it back the way Bobby combed his before. It was wet enough that he could get it to look pretty close to Bobby's. He stared at it in the mirror, but it didn't look right on him. He quickly changed it with the comb, parting it slightly off center and letting the layers fall back to where they were trained to lay, with a few hitting each side of his forehead.

"Craig!" Bobby yelled from somewhere downstairs. "Hurry your ass up! We got shit to do!"

The boy picked up his sweatpants and wet towel. He hung the towel on the edge of the tub next to Jack's. That was something that Evelyn had never liked, but since Jack had draped his there Craig couldn't see the harm in putting his next to it. He went to his room with his sweatpants and dropped them on his bed. He picked them back up immediately and tossed them into the basket at the end of his dresser. He couldn't just leave t hem on his bed. He had never been able to leave things lying around in his room. It wasn't that anyone had ever been on him about keeping his room clean; he just couldn't stand to leave a mess of any kind in his room. It had been the first real room that he'd had. The best as his memory served him the room with his parents had been a large, mostly empty room, with his small bed, and a dresser. There was a toy box in the corner, but he'd not been allowed to leave his toys out on the hard wood floor.

The room hadn't felt safe. It had been frightening, and with good reason. When he was in that room his father would come in and hurt him.When he was in the foster home, he really hadn't had a room of his own; he'd had to share a room with other kids. That room had never been clean, there had been four of them crammed into the small space, and it wasn't as if he could go into that room and play or be alone. In that house, if you went to your room it was to go to bed or get a beating. When he was at St. Vincent's, he slept in a dorm, and everything had been very institutional. He didn't mind that though, at least it was clean, for the most part. When Evelyn had brought him home and told him he had his own room, and it had been just his sized, he'd been thrilled. When Bobby and Jerry had worked on it they had moved the back wall out and given him what seemed at the time to be a lot more room. Now that he was older, he could feel just how small the room really was, but it was still his room, and he couldn't imagine having any other room. When Jack had moved out, Evelyn had tried to get Craig to move to Jack's empty room, but the boy hadn't wanted to. He wanted to be in the room that had been his first safe bedroom.

"Craig!" Bobby sounded as if he were at the bottom of the stairs now. Since Craig's room door was right in front of the stairway, he had learned to tell when someone was yelling from the bottom of the steps or the kitchen, or living room.

The boy opened a dresser drawer and dug out a pair of almost matching white socks, snatched his shoes up from the floor next to the door, and headed towards the stairs. He wasn't surprised to find Bobby standing at the bottom the stairs looking irritated.

"Why is it when I'm standing in the fucking room you can get in and out of the shower in less than five minutes, but when you are left to do it yourself it takes you half an hour?" Bobby asked loudly.

"I don't know." Craig shrugged his shoulders. He was no longer afraid of Bobby's temper. The man had whipped the shit out of him already and he was still breathing. He knew no matter how threatening Bobby acted the man would never hurt him. He hadn't liked getting his ass beat, and yes, it was still uncomfortable to sit for a very long period of time, but Bobby hadn't really hurt him, and he felt better now that they knew the truth about Stanley, and his father. It felt as if a weight had lifted off of his shoulders.

He even found that despite the fact that he'd been on restriction, he had actually felt safer knowing that one of his brothers was with him at all times. They had even gone the past few days without ignoring him completely, and now he was worried that they might start to forget about him again, like they always had before. Mostly, he was afraid Bobby would forget about him and go back to treating him the way he always did. He tried to tell himself that wasn't going to happen, that Bobby wouldn't start hating him again, but it was a fear that he couldn't quite shake.

"Go get your breakfast; it's on the table waiting for you." Bobby shook his head and headed for the kitchen.

Craig headed for the dining room by going through the living room. He dropped his shoes and socks on the chair next to the record player and walked onto the dining room. He wasn't surprised to find toaster pastries and milk sitting in front of his chair. He'd known that Bobby wasn't about to cook anything good, and Jack didn't seem to be around at the moment. Angel cooked the good breakfasts, and he'd left out of the house before Bobby could catch up to him.

Craig sat down in front of the pastries and picked one up. He wasn't a big fan of the too sweet breakfast food. He liked sweet, but toaster pastry didn't feel like breakfast. He took a bite and chewed slowly. He could hear Bobby in the kitchen, on the phone, talking quietly. Moments later Jack walked through the dining room from the living room wearing his jacket. He grabbed one of the pastries and walked on through to the kitchen. Craig was almost thankful that Jack had taken half of his breakfast. That meant that he wouldn't have to eat any more than the one. It took a few minutes to get the pastry down, and then he drank his milk quickly. He picked up the small plate and glass and walked into the kitchen. Bobby was pacing back and forth, holding the phone to his ear while Jack leaned back against the counter watching him.

Craig reached past Jack and rinsed out his glass quickly before sitting both it and the plate in the sink. He stood next to Jack, leaning back on the counter in similar manner as his brother. "Who is he talking to?" He leaned close to Jack to whisper the question.

"He's trying to find out where Councilman Douglas' office is, and he's trying to get an appointment with him." Jack answered. "He's been on hold almost since he got on the phone."

Bobby looked over at Craig and placed a hand over the telephone's receiver. "Go get your fucking shoes on." He spoke quickly. "What are you doing out here wasting time?"

Craig felt a sting in his gut. He turned and walked out of the kitchen, through the foyer to the living room, where his shoes were. He sat down in the chair and started pulling on his socks. He finished tying his shoes and sat back in the chair. He thought about returning to the kitchen, but had the feeling Bobby didn't want him in there with him. He waited a few minutes, then stood and walked back to the kitchen.

Bobby was still on the phone, but it seemed now he was actually talking to a real person. "Yes, please today would be perfect." He smiled at Jack. "So, ten o'clock this morning isn't good?" After a few moments he nodded his head. "What about later, towards the end of the day, I mean, what time does he leave?" He asked and turned to pace back across the kitchen floor towards the table. He turned to walk back across the kitchen with a big grin on his face. "Four o'clock? Isn't that just a little early for a city employee to be leaving?" He listened for a moment. "Oh, I see. Well, then I'll try calling back later to see if we can set up an appointment for another day. Thank you very much." He quickly hung up the cordless phone. "Okay, the guy will be leaving at noon for some important lunch meeting, won't be back until about two, and then he leaves for the day at four. His office is on the fifth floor, so I'm sure he's gonna be parked on the upper level of the garage. I'm thinking we can case the place and get a good look at him when he leaves for his meeting, and then nail him when he leaves for the day." He spoke to Jack. You can check out the computer too, can't you? See if you can find any pictures of him? That would help."

Jack nodded his head. "Yeah, there should be something." He turned and walked past Craig towards the living room.

Bobby looked at Craig. "We're gonna be leaving soon. You need to do anything else? Brush your teeth, comb your hair?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head. "I need to brush my teeth." He answered quietly.

"Well then get to it. I want to be out of here in ten minutes." Bobby waved the boy back out of the kitchen.

Craig went back up to the restroom and brushed his teeth. He took his time, though he knew Bobby was in a hurry. He wasn't sure why he felt he needed to take his time, maybe it was a test on his part, and he wasn't even sure what the test was supposed to be for. Was he testing Bobby to see how far he could push him, or to see if the man would revert completely back to the way it had been before Saturday morning, when he'd lost it in that park and Bobby had seemed to turn into a caring brother? He didn't know.

After several minutes of brushing his teeth, he heard movement in the doorway and looked up to see Bobby standing there watching him.

"Hurry the hell up." Bobby sounded irritated again, but not angry.

Craig rinsed his mouth and put his toothbrush back in the cup. He followed Bobby down the stairs, to the living room, where Jack was still searching on the internet for anything about Douglas.

"Anything yet?" Bobby asked as he stood over Jack.

"No. This thing is ancient; it's slower than a hard shit." Jack muttered. He clicked on the mouse a few times. "Wait, here we go." He pointed to the monitor.

Bobby leaned over. "So that's the guy, huh? Awright, let's go." He patted Jack on the back and turned to Craig. "Come on; get your coat on kid."

A few minutes later they were in the car, headed downtown. Craig sat in the middle of the back seat so that he could look out the front window. It suddenly occurred to him that Bobby was supposed to call the school. "Bobby?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Bobby didn't look back.

"Did you call the school?" Craig asked.

"Yeah, I called them while you were upstairs taking a fucking hour long shower." Bobby answered. "You and Jackie both need to learn how to hurry the fuck up in the restroom." He shook his head. "My two little primping sisters." He grinned and glanced at Jack, then back at Craig.

Craig sat back in the seat. The man was still tormenting the people around him, which had to be a good sign, since he included the boy. He felt a little better than he had earlier that morning. He mentally kicked himself for worrying.

When they got to the City building Bobby pulled into the parking garage and headed to the top section. When they walked into the building ten minutes later, Bobby stopped at the directory posted on the wall at the entrance before emptying his car keys into the small plastic basket offered by the security guard. Craig followed Bobby, and then Jack followed suit. Craig was surprised Bobby had actually left the house without a gun in his pocket, and if they hadn't been in a public place, he might have asked him about it.

They found the Douglas' office fairly easy. Bobby led Craig and Jack over to a bench along the wall and they all sat down. Bobby sat back. "Keep your eyes open. Either one of you see's him, you speak up."

They sat there for a long time. Craig watched carefully for what felt like hours to him, and he didn't see the man from the picture on the computer at home. Jack and Bobby cracked some jokes about some of the older women that passed them in the hall. Craig listened, and became bored quickly. He felt the urge to go to the restroom, and looked up at Bobby. "Where's the restroom?" He asked.

Bobby looked at him. "How the hell should I know?"

"I have to go." Craig announced.

"I'm sure there's one around here somewhere. Go look." Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "Make it quick, if this guy comes out we need to follow him so we know which car he drives and where he parks."

Craig stood and started walking down the hall. He found public restrooms fairly quick and did what he needed to do. He returned to his brothers just as Douglas walked out of his office and down the hall. Bobby and Jack both stood before Craig had a chance to sit.

The men moved at a casual pace, since Douglas didn't move very fast himself. Craig stayed just behind them, not wanting to get in the way. They stayed out of sight once they were in the parking garage. When Douglas reached his car Bobby and Jack both turned and guided Craig in a direction that the man wouldn't see them when he pulled out.

"Come on, let's get to the car." Bobby led them back to where the car was parked. He moved the car so that it was parked close enough to Douglas' space that they would see when he came back.

Craig rested back in the seat. "So, what are we gonna do, just sit here and wait?" He asked.

"Yeah, Craig, we sit and wait. That's what we do. We have to use some patience here." Bobby spoke calmly.

"Bobby, this is boring." Craig spoke after a few minutes.

Bobby looked at Jack. "Well I guess you should have brought your coloring book with you then." He didn't look back at Craig. "Stop complaining. We need to catch him when he leaves for the day."

"Well, can't we go get something to eat? We sat in there for hours. I'm hungry." Craig pushed. He was a little hungry, but mostly he was bored.

"Kid, what is your problem?" Bobby finally turned and looked at him. "You are starting to whine like a five year old." He didn't sound angry, but it was easy to see he was getting irritated. "Take a fucking nap or something. You just ate a few hours ago. You'll live until we get home."

"I thought I had to stay on a schedule." Craig challenged.

Bobby looked at Jack again. "Okay," He dug some money out of his pocket, "Jack, go get us some food." He spoke quietly.

"Are you serious?" Jack asked.

"There's a hamburger joint around the corner. You can walk there in five minutes." Bobby held the money out towards Jack.

"It's fucking freezing out there. If I carry food back in this cold it will be frozen before I get back to the car." Jack shook his head. "He had a lunch meeting, right? He's gonna be gone for a while. Even if he gets back before we do we know where he parks and what time he's leaving. Just start the car and let's go. I'm hungry too."

"Fine," Bobby sounded even more irritated. "I'll drive you there." He started the car and pulled it out of the space they had parked in. "If we lose our spot kid I'm gonna kick your ass." His voice rose slightly.

Fifteen minutes later Bobby had parked the car in the same spot they had abandoned and was handing Craig a hamburger, fries and a soft drink through the gap in the front seats. "Don't spill a fucking thing in my car." He threatened.

Craig looked at Bobby and met his eyes. "I won't." He promised. He ate the food, taking his time. He was truly hungry, but not to the extent that he'd led Bobby to believe.

Once the food was gone and there was nothing else to occupy his time, the fourteen year old settle back in the seat and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, because when he woke he was alone in the car. He sat up quickly and looked out the windows, searching for any sign of his brothers. He located them at Douglas' car. The passenger and driver's side doors were hanging open and Bobby was pouring gasoline onto the interior of the front seat. Craig strained his eyes, trying to figure out how his brothers had managed to get into the car to begin with. He spotted the hole in the rear driver's side door and shook his head slowly. "Damn Bobby." He muttered. Moments later his brothers were closing up the car and heading back, stashing the gas can close to Douglas' car where it was concealed, but easily accessible.

Bobby was laughing when he got back into his own car. "Damn, this is too fucking easy."

"You're gonna feel real stupid if this guy talks to us on his own, you know that." Jack commented.

Both men looked at Craig, who was leaning up to look at them through the seats.

"Well, it looks like the little princess finally woke up." Bobby laughed. "You must have needed the fucking sleep kid." He held up his watch. "It's almost four. Douglas should be coming any time."

Craig sat back in the seat without commenting.

"When he comes out kid, you stay in the fucking car." Bobby glanced back at him. "Got that?"

Craig nodded his head slowly.

"What was that?" Bobby stared at him hard.

"Yeah, I got that." Craig muttered.

Bobby gave him a look and started to say something, but Jack reached out and smacked Bobby hard. "There he is." He pointed to Douglas exiting the elevator.

Bobby and Jack both got out of the car quickly, moving to intercept Douglas as he walked through the parking garage towards his car. Craig quickly rolled window down on the side of the car facing the confrontation.

"Councilman Douglas." Craig was close enough he could hear Bobby speaking. "I'm sorry to startle you. My name is Bobby Mercer. I believe you know my brother, Jeremiah? Apparently you were the one who got his business shut down, right?" The man was being more than polite. Coming from Bobby it was downright sickening. Craig hadn't expected Bobby to be so diplomatic with the man.

Douglas seemed to stiffen up instantly. "This is not the proper venue for an appeal." The man looked nervous, and his voice, though it was steady, seemed unsure of the men in front of him.

"Look, we're not really concerned with that, Councilman. "Bobby shook his head, keeping his tone business-like. "I heard my brother got mixed up with some hoodlums. You know what I'm talking about?"

"I can't help you," Douglas pushed his way past the Mercers. "Excuse me." He walked quickly to his car, unlocked it and got in, without looking back.

Bobby and Jack both stood in their spot, watching the man once he was in the car.

Craig couldn't hear Douglas' voice, but he could see the look on his face when he realized the interior of his car was soaked in gasoline. The man turned in his seat and found the broken window, which would have been obvious if the man hadn't been in such a rush to get in his car.

Bobby and Jack moved towards the car. Bobby grabbed the gas can and started pouring the flammable liquid on the hood of the expensive vehicle holding their victim, "Councilman!" Bobby yelled, "Now I gotta light your ass on fire! All I wanted was a name!" He moved down the side of the car, pouring the gasoline over the roof so that it ran down the closed window in front of Douglas.

Jack stood outside the glass, in plain view of the councilman. He leaned forward as he lit a cigarette.

"You're gonna make me turn your ass into a black gingerbread man now!" He made his way to the back end of the car and put the can down. He turned and came back to where Jack was puffing on the cigarette. "It's all right. I'll have my little brother here suck your burning dick!" He looked at Jack and glared at him for a moment. "Give me the cigarette." He pulled it from Jack's hand and turned to the man trapped in the car. "Roll down the window!" He yelled at Douglas.

Douglas rolled the window down with no argument. "Victor. Victor Sweet."

Craig heard the words, barely.

"What about him?" Bobby asked.

Craig couldn't hear anything else Douglas said. His voice didn't carry the full distance to Bobby's car. He could hear words every once in a while, but he had no idea what was being said. He felt a shiver hit him and rolled the window up. Bobby had a name now.


	27. Chapter 27

Thanks for reading, and for the reviews! Yep, we are getting close to the big shoot out at the Mercer house, but not quite there yet :) I wonder what IS going to happen to dear Jackie?

Legal stuff still counts!

* * *

**_Chapter 27: Playtime Bowl_**

When they got back to house Bobby parked in the back and they went in the back door. Bobby turned to Craig as they entered the kitchen. "Why don't you go watch the tube or somethin'? We have some things we need to talk about." He motioned to himself and Jack.

Craig felt his heart sink a little. He liked being involved with what his brothers were doing, and after the past three days he didn't understand why Bobby was sending him out of the room. "I'll stay quiet, I won't interrupt." He spoke carefully, hoping Bobby would let him stick around and listen. He wanted to know who Victor Sweet was and how Jeremiah was involved with him, just as much as the rest of them.

"I said go watch T.V." Bobby pointed towards the front hall. "Now go. Get out your book and draw or something. Do whatever you want, but I need to talk with Jack for a few minutes." He started pulling off his coat and walked to the dining room.

Jack started to walk past Craig in the same direction Bobby had gone. "Don't worry about it, you'll find out all about it soon enough." He smiled at the boy and then followed Bobby.

Craig went to the foyer, hung up his coat and then went to the living room. He went to the couch and felt under the middle cushion for his sketch pad. He sat down and opened up to the last picture he'd been working on, grabbing the pencil before if fell out of reach. He was still careful each time he opened the pad not to look at the drawing he'd done on Thanksgiving night. He was tempted to pull it out, rip it up and throw it away, but there was a part of him that wouldn't let him do that. He didn't want to look at it, but at some point he might change his mind. Besides, it was still one of his drawings, and he never threw away one of his drawings, even if he didn't like it. He still felt awkward about having handed any of his drawings over to his brothers. Each of them seemed to be a part of him, and it was difficult to give those small pieces of himself to anyone else. The last picture he'd been working on had been a scene from the bridge. His mind had taken in the sight of the city at night on Thanksgiving, and he'd been putting that onto paper. He stared at it for along moment. It still needed some work, but there were other images floating around in his head.

He had just laid the lead to the paper when Bobby called out from the other room. "I don't hear the fucking television."

Craig looked up to the door way, and could see his brothers sitting at the table. He didn't argue with Bobby, it was obvious the man didn't want him to hear what they were talking about and wanted to the television on to drown out their voices. He picked up the remote control and turned on the T.V. He turned the volume up to what he thought Bobby would be happy with, without paying any mind to what was actually on. He put the remote down on the coffee table and returned to his sketch pad.

He found himself carefully penciling in the form of the front of Robert Bradford's house. He added the landscaping, and the fake rock that held the key to the front door. He even drew in Petunia sitting on the front steps. He thought that the picture might be a good gift for Bobby sometime in the future. As he worked on the details he had no concept of time. His mind was drifting back to the night before, and the whole 'slapping Robert Bradford on the stomach' scene. Not that he was putting that all into the sketch; he just wanted to get the image of Mr. Bradford's house out of his head.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing. He looked up in time to see Bobby leave the dining room table and move towards the kitchen, and then he looked back at his sketch. He couldn't hear a thing that was being said, not over the television. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He didn't like where this whole thing about Jerry was going. He couldn't believe that Jeremiah was involved with any wrong doing on the part of his project, no matter what Angel had said. There was a nagging feeling digging at his gut. He seemed to remember his mother talking about something related to Jeremiah's business at some point, but couldn't quite remember. He rarely forgot anything that his mother had told him that was important, but if she'd been talking to someone else, he wouldn't have been paying that much attention. Maybe it had been in a conversation she'd been having with Robert Bradford. He thought he could even remember her saying something about filing a police report of some sort, and that hadn't been too long ago. He just wished now that he'd paid more attention. If he could remember the details he could tell Bobby, but he didn't want to say something and be wrong, and then have Bobby pissed at him.

What if Angel was right? What if Jerry had gotten involved with some bad people? What would that do to his brothers? He was wondering if Bobby could actually hurt any of his brothers, no matter what they did. Bobby loved them all, right? He may not have been good at showing it, but he did love all of his brothers, and he would kill for each of them, Craig knew that for certain.

"Craig!" Jack called from the door way.

Craig looked up at Jack, his thoughts disrupted.

"Turn off the box and get your coat on. We're going." Jack turned and headed towards the kitchen.

Craig closed his sketch pad, sticking the pencil into the pages as he always did. He turned off the television quickly, and tucked his pad under the cushion where he had retrieved it. He went for his coat, and was pulling it on.

"Come on kid, move it! We ain't got all day!" Bobby yelled from the kitchen.

Craig stepped into the kitchen. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Angel wants us to meet him at the 'Playtime'. " Bobby announced.

"The bowling alley?" Craig was surprised.

"Yeah, the bowling alley," Bobby walked to the back door. "It's close enough that we can walk. Angel has Ma's car, so we're just gonna catch a ride with him from there."

Craig made sure to fasten up his coat before following Bobby out the door. Jack was right behind him. It seemed strange to him that they would be going to the bowling alley to meet up with Angel. He wondered if the man had found out anything more about Jeremiah.

Bobby and Jack didn't talk much as they walked. Both men were keeping a quick pace, and Craig had to walk extra fast to keep up with them. He was surprised Bobby was able to match the fast steps of Jack's long legs, but the man did, with ease. Jack wasn't wearing anything more than his hooded sweatshirt, and although they were close enough to the bowling alley that they could walk it, it still didn't seem to Craig that it would be enough against the cold that was biting at his own cheeks.

As they crossed the parking lot ten minutes later, Jack looked at Bobby. "What do you think he found?" He asked.

"I don't know, but it was something big." Bobby breathed heavy against the cold air.

"How can you tell?" Jack asked.

"By the sound of his voice," Bobby responded. "I know my brother."

They walked into the 'Playtime Bowl', and Craig was thankful to be out of the cold. He didn't pull his coat off as he followed Bobby and Jack to the bar, where Angel was sitting, watching the bowlers and nursing a beer.

Bobby ordered himself and Jack a beer, but he didn't ask Craig if he wanted anything. The boy thought that at that moment a hot chocolate would taste pretty good, but he didn't say anything. He figured Bobby had other things on his mind, and that it might be best not to mention the hot chocolate idea.

Bobby took his own beer and handed a bottle to Jack. "What's goin' on Angel?" He asked.

Jack sat in the empty stool next to Angel; Craig didn't feel like sitting, so he stood next to Jack. Bobby stood on the other side of Angel, resting his beer on the bar.

"Was that councilman helpful?" Angel asked, sitting with his back to the bar, looking out at the lanes and watching the bowlers.

"Oh, yeah, a real public servant," Bobby spoke with a hint of mischief in his voice. "You remember a punk named Victor Sweet?" His tone turned serious.

"I remember a Malcolm Sweet." Angel looked up at Bobby.

"Victor was his nephew. Used to deliver things for his uncle, like firebombs and beatings; you remember; Malcolm used to love to humiliate him all the time." Bobby spoke calmly.

Craig listened to his brother's words. This was not sounding very good.

"Yeah, I remember that dude." Angel nodded his head.

"Apparently Victor got sick of the ass-whippins and sunk his uncle into the river. He owns the whole neighborhood now." Bobby took a long drink of his beer.

"No shit."Jack spoke to back up Bobby's statement.

Angel had a thoughtful look on his face. "Hey Bobby, word around town is that Jerry owed a lot of people some money." He looked back out at the lanes for a moment, and then returned his gaze to eldest Mercer.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby looked as if he didn't really want to hear what Angel was about to say.

"Recognize that dude over there with the fat head?" Angel nodded over towards one of the lanes.

Craig followed the gazes of all three of his brothers to see a guy he recognized who used to work with Jerry.

"Yeah, that's Evander Pearson. He used to be all right, that guy." Bobby looked back to Angel. "Jerry and him used to hang out during the union days."

Angel nodded his head. "He goes by Evan now." He drew in a deep breath. "And he's working for a guy named Victor."

All three of the men were silent for a long moment. The expressions on their faces were blank; Craig couldn't tell what any of them were thinking at that moment. He only knew what he felt. None of this could be right. Angel had to be wrong. They were missing some information somewhere, they had to be. Jerry wouldn't get in with someone like Victor Sweet, would he?

Jack leaned forward on his stool. "You guys are coming up with this pretty quick." He spoke calmly.

Bobby turned away from the lanes, to look at Angel and Jack. "Yeah, we should have cops." He took another drink of his beer and walked past Jack, and stopped next to where Craig was standing, putting his back to all of his brothers. "What are we doing here Angel?" His voice sounded stressed.

"Holy shit," Jack spoke quickly and stood, pulling Craig's attention away from Bobby and over to where Evander was bowling with his family.

Jerry was walking up to the man that Angel had just told them worked for Victor Sweet, and according to his brothers, Victor Sweet was nothing but a no good gangster.

Bobby walked past his brothers again, towards the railing separating the bar from the lanes, and they all watched as Jerry handed Evander an envelope. Angel and Jack both stood and followed Bobby a few feet down the bar. Craig was frozen in his spot, not sure what to think of what was happening, and wishing that he could wake up from this the same as he woke up from his nightmares. The neon lights flashing around him were starting to make him feel light headed, or maybe it was the scene playing out, either way, he wasn't sure how long he could stand being in that place.

"I found out Jerry got a big insurance check for Mom's death." Angel spoke quietly.

The men continued watching until Jerry walked away, towards the exit. "Forget Jerry. We're gonna find him later. Come on." Bobby turned and led Angel and Jerry around the support beam next to him, down the step onto the wooden floor, and started moving towards Evander.

Angel followed without hesitation. Jack stopped long enough to take one last sip of his beer before setting it down on the bar and moving to catch up to his brothers. Craig didn't move. He didn't want to hear what was said. He didn't want to hear any more about Jerry being crooked, or being involved with gangsters, hoodlums, whatever Bobby might call them. He didn't want any of this to be happening.

"Yo, Evander!" Bobby called out over the noise of bowling balls rolling down wooden lanes, pins falling, crashing into each other, and the voices and laughter of the bowlers mingling in with the sounds of the big screen T.V.s that hung over the lanes.

Craig found himself moving towards the railing, watching, though he didn't really want to. He could see Evander turn to see the Mercers heading his way, and then turn back to his wife. "Muriel, we're leaving." He called out to his wife, who quickly started gathering up their children and getting them into their coats.

Evander had one of his daughters standing beside him and Craig could see Bobby and Angel talking to the man. Evander reached up and held a hand to his daughter's ear and responded to the men. After a few more words passed between them Bobby pulled his jacket back and put his hand on his gun in a threatening way, but didn't pull it out. Craig could see Evander handing Angel the envelope. Bobby said something else, and then his brothers turned and headed back towards the bar.

Bobby walked up to Craig, and without stopping grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the side exit. Angel and Jack were right behind them.

The sun was setting and the air seemed to feel colder. Craig shivered as Bobby pulled him through the parking lot, towards Evelyn's car. Angel got in behind the steering wheel. Bobby opened the rear door on the passenger's side and pushed Craig inside. Jack got in on the driver's side.

Angel started the car. "We don't know the whole story man, we only know what we found out and what we seen." He spoke quietly. "We need to talk to Jerry. We need to know what he has to say about this."

"What he has to say?" Bobby's voice was quiet, but it held a yell in it. "I'll ask him some questions. I'll show all the fuckin' finesse I can while I'm beating the shit out of that fucker." He shook his head, slid down in his seat and fixed his gaze out the window. "Come on; let's see if we can catch up to him." Bobby reached up and smacked the dashboard of the car.

Angel handed Bobby the envelope. "Check how much." He muttered.

Bobby opened up the paper pouch and started counting the bills. "Looks to be twenty grand," He closed it up and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Come on Angel, hurry the fuck up."

"Just chill, man," Angel put the car in gear and pulled out of the space he'd been parked in.

Craig hugged onto his stomach while Angel drove through the streets, towards Jerry's house. They did manage to catch up to him, and Angel slowed down so that they wouldn't get too close to him. After a few turns Angel drew in a deep breath. "Well, he's going home at least." He commented.

"Good we can fucking talk to him when we get there." Bobby countered.

"Bobby, you can't do anything at his house. Let's just make sure that's where he's going, and we can call him in the morning." Jack spoke from beside Craig.

Craig felt sick to his stomach. He'd never heard that tone in Bobby's voice before. It was different than when he'd been going after the shooters. It was different than it had been when he'd been questioning Damian, or the guy from the street gang. His voice now held pure anger, and hate, where before it was just an act to get the information he wanted.

It was dark by the time they pulled up to the corner down the street from Jerry's house. They sat at the intersection while Jerry got out of his car and went into the house. Angel finally pulled the car around and parked it across the street. The house was dark, except for the front bedroom light upstairs. As they sat there watching, they could see Jerry and Camille moving around in front of the open curtains. Camille left the room after a little while.

Bobby sat quietly for as long as he could it seemed. "I ain't playing no more." Bobby turned and opened the door. "I'm gonna go in there and bust that melon and find out what he's thinking."

Jack's hand shot up to rest on Bobby's shoulders. "His family's in there." He spoke quickly, showing that he was concerned about Jerry's daughters.

Angel grabbed hold of Bobby as well. "You're gonna have to calm down." He held him back from the door.

"I don't give a shit." Bobby slammed the door closed. "Oh, I'm calm." He spoke, his words dripping with anger.

"Let me just call him." Angel opened up his cell phone.

"He thinks I'm an idiot." Bobby didn't seem to be talking to any one in particular. "He thinks I don't know what the fuck is going on." He continued to stare out the window next to him, at the sidewalk.

"Jerry," Angel spoke calmly into his phone after a few moments. "It's Angel. Look man, we need to meet up first thing tomorrow at Mom's house."

"I'm gonna kill him." Bobby's voice held a chill in it that was far worse than the freezing weather outside the car.

Craig felt a shiver run through him. He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd just started to feel as if he was a part of his own family, that his brothers loved him, but the cold voice from Bobby, the facts that they had uncovered about Jerry, it was as if his whole world falling apart, again. This time is felt worse. He felt as if he were about to lose all four of his brothers.

"Calm down Bobby." Jack spoke quietly. He looked over at Craig and reach over to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's okay kid." He spoke even softer.

Craig pulled away from Jack's touch instinctively, and he didn't care when Jack gave him an almost hurt look.

"We still family, right?" Angel spoke into the phone. "Yeah, man, okay." Angel closed the phone up.

Bobby looked at Angel, "Is he coming?"

Angel met Bobby's gaze, "Yeah."

"Good." Bobby looked back out his side window.

The ride home was quiet, and tense. Craig stared out his window, feeling Jack's stare from time to time, but ignoring it. He could see Bobby staring out his window. Angel concentrated on his driving and no one said a word.

When they got home, Craig jumped out of the car, barely giving Angel time to put it in park. He shut the door hard and headed for the back door as quickly as he could, trying not to shiver.

"What the fuck!" Angel cried out as Craig exited the car.

Bobby sat up in his seat and got out just as quickly as Craig, following the boy at an even quicker pace. "Craig!" He called out.

Craig didn't stop. He left the back door standing open, walked through to the living room, and dug his sketch pad out from under the couch, he turned and headed for the stairs, but he wasn't fast enough.

Bobby caught up to him at the bottom the steps. "What the fuck was that?" The man asked as he grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him to a stop.

Craig looked up at Bobby. The man was already mad at Jerry, and Craig wasn't sure how easy he would lose his temper at the moment. "I just want to go to bed." He muttered.

Bobby stared at him. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. You have school in the morning." He nodded his head. "I want you to listen to me. We will figure this thing with Jerry out. Don't let it bother you, okay?" He was trying to sound calm, but it wasn't working. Craig thought that maybe Bobby was trying to tell him not to worry about his angry remarks, but it didn't help.

"You said you were gonna kill him." Craig muttered.

"I'm not gonna try to lie to you, I'm pissed as hell. But we'll figure this out." Bobby let go of him. "Go get ready for bed." He turned and walked into the living room as Angel and Jack came through the back door, into sight through the doorway of the foyer.

Craig didn't say anything else to anyone. He moved up the stairs quickly, and went to his room. Bobby never said he had to go to his mother's room, and he wasn't on restriction anymore. He damn sure didn't want to sleep in his mother's bed next to his brother. At that moment he wanted to be as far away from all of his brothers as he could be.

Craig changed into clothes for bed, and then went to the restroom. He purposely hurried, not wanting to run into any of his brothers. When he returned to his room, he lay down on his side in his bed, putting his back to the door, and opened up his sketch pad. He started drawing without hesitation. His hand moved, as his mind ran through the scene at the bowling alley. The likeness of Jerry standing there with Evander, handing the man the envelope with so much cash in it wouldn't let him rest until it was out of his head. The image emerged with every last detail scratched out in different shades of number two pencil. He heard when his brothers came up stairs. They were talking quietly to one another.

He heard the floorboards creak just outside his bedroom door, and was sure he heard Bobby's quiet voice.

"Just let him be, man. If he wants to be alone in his room, maybe it's what he needs right now." Angels' voice was audible through the door.

The footsteps moved away, and Craig was thankful that it seemed his brothers were going to let him be, at least for the time being. He returned to working on his drawing, and didn't stop until his bladder told him he needed a break. He turned in his bed to stand, and glanced at the clock to find that it was almost midnight. He went to the restroom, and was surprised the door to Evelyn's room was standing wide open. When he was finished in the restroom he walked up to the open door and looked in at Bobby's still form on the bed. He wouldn't admit it if anyone were to ever ask him, but he did miss having his older brother sleeping next to him in bed, it had made him feel safe, and he hadn't been afraid of dreaming. His last bad nightmare had been a couple of nights before, and he'd napped for three hours on Sunday without any dreams. He'd had the start of a nightmare the night the night before, but Bobby had caught him before it got too bad.

Craig turned and went back to his room, not wanting to sleep alone, but at that moment not wanting to be near Bobby. He loved him, and he knew the man was pissed at Jerry for a good reason, but he wasn't sure he could handle what was going to happen to his family. He closed his bedroom door and got back into his bed. It wasn't fair. Hadn't his family been through enough? Hadn't he been through enough? He wished Evelyn was there to explain everything to him, to make it better, just as she always had. He felt tears falling as he closed his eyes. He decided to let himself cry, it wasn't as if anyone else was around to see it. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but at some point he fell into a restless sleep. He didn't dream, but he would toss and turn and wake for a few seconds before drifting back to sleep. He didn't sleep well at all, and when he woke at almost seven o'clock, he didn't want to get out of the bed. He didn't want to the day to start. He didn't want Jerry to come over to the house, and he didn't want his brothers fighting with each other. He didn't want to go to school. He didn't like how life was turning out without his Mom there to fix things, and hold everything together. It was amazing to him how quickly everything seemed to be falling apart. He had been feeling better about his brothers, and in an instant was all wiped away.


	28. Chapter 28

Okay, will Jack die? I really feel I should be true to the movie, but I love Jack too...

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think?

Legal statement still applies...

**_Chapter 28: Gunfire_**

Craig lay in the bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to go to school. He wanted to be home when Jerry showed up. He wanted to know what was going on. Part of him thought that maybe if he was home, there was less of a chance of his brothers actually hurting each other. He couldn't lose any of them. The way it was looking he was about to lose Jerry. A nagging feeling in his gut told him that things were going to get worse, though he had no idea how they could. Of course that thought led his mind to start using its imagination and play the 'what if' game that it had always been so good at. What if Bobby really lost control and killed Jerry? What if Jack and Angel had to help him hide the body, and then they had to leave to run from the cops? What if they left him behind and he had to go back into the custody of the state? What if they didn't run, but they got caught and ended up going to prison, not able to get out on some technicality like his father had, and Craig still ended up in the system again, or having to go back to his father?

His mind ran through several scenarios before he managed to get himself worked up enough that he felt sick to his stomach. He got out of bed and went to the restroom. He still felt sluggish and tired, and he had that fear and aching eating away at his gut. He wanted Evelyn to be there to take it all away and do what she always did best, be a mother.

He didn't bother dressing before he went downstairs. There was yet to be any activity from his three brothers, and he wasn't sure if it was because they were sleeping or they just didn't want to get up to face the day yet. Jerry was supposed to be at the house first thing that morning. He went to the kitchen and readied a bowl of cereal. He carried it with him to the dining room and sat down with it. He wasn't hungry; he was just going through the motions. He did try to eat a few bites, but it didn't taste right, it didn't feel right when it hit his stomach. He lifted the bowl after a few bites and tried just drinking the milk out of it, and that still wasn't much use for his stomach. He carried the bowl back into the kitchen and carefully poured as much milk out of bowl as he could before he dumped the cereal into the trash can. He rinsed out the bowl and set it in the sink, then went upstairs to get a shower. He was sure his brothers would be up before he got out the shower. They were early risers, except maybe for Jack, who tended to sleep in. Besides, they would have to be up for when Jerry got there.

Craig got his clothes from his room and went to the restroom. He showered quickly, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and dressed before going back to his room. He put his sketchpad under the mattress of the bed, and then quickly made the bed neatly. He made sure his dresser was straightened up, that the radio was setting just right. He arranged the dirty clothes in the basket in the corner so that they weren't hanging over the rim of the basket. He did a quick inspection of the room to be sure everything was perfect, before going back downstairs.

He sat down on the couch and turned on the television, more to have some noise than anything. He didn't want to be alone in the quiet. The morning news was on. He looked at the time stamp at the bottom of the screen. It was fifteen minutes before eight. He didn't have to leave for school for another thirty minutes. He started flipping through the channels, a habit he never had until recently.

He was still flipping through the channels when Angel came downstairs. Angel went straight for the kitchen, not stopping in the living room to say good morning. Craig continued flipping the channels, not caring that Angel hadn't spoken. A few minutes later, Angel appeared in the doorway of the dining room holding the trash can. Craig looked up at him, thinking it was strange that the man would be carrying the trash around the house. Angel stared at him for a long moment without saying anything.

"What?" Craig asked, though he was sure he knew his brother was about to say something about the cereal resting in the bottom of the bag lining the can.

"You tossed your breakfast?" Angel asked.

"It didn't taste right. I think the milk might be bad." Craig looked back to the television. It wasn't a full lie, the milk had tasted bad, and so had the cereal. He knew the milk hadn't gone bad though, it was him. He just couldn't eat.

Angel gave him a look that told him he didn't believe him. "What did Bobby say about dumping food?"

Craig didn't look back at Angel. "The milk was bad." He muttered, not caring to argue about it with the man.

Angel turned and walked back into the kitchen.

Several minutes later Jack walked down the stairs, and Bobby was close behind him. Jack stopped in the doorway. "I'll walk you to school if you want." He offered.

Craig didn't take his attention from the television. "No thanks." He muttered. "You don't have to."

"I'd kind of like to." Jack shrugged his shoulders.

Craig still didn't look up. "Whatever." He continued changing the channels.

Bobby walked on through to the kitchen.

Jack waited a few seconds before turning away and following Bobby. Craig could hear his brothers' voices, but there were no audible words that he could make out. After several more minutes of channel surfing, Bobby walked in. He walked up to the television and turned it off.

Craig looked at Bobby as the man stepped to the middle of the room. "You dumped food?" He asked.

Craig swallowed hard. "It tasted bad." He muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and shook his head. "Let me catch you doin' it again." He warned.

Craig let the remote drop on the couch next to him and crossed his arms over his stomach, avoiding looking at Bobby.

"You all ready for school?"Bobby asked.

Craig looked at the edge of the table. "I don't want to go." He muttered.

Bobby shook his head. "You can go to school. I need you to go to school today."

"I don't want to go." Craig spoke a little more forcefully. "I want to stay home."

"Kid, you need to try. You can't sit at home for the rest of your life. Ma sure as hell wouldn't want that." Bobby was sounding much calmer than he had the night before. "I need for you to be out of the house this morning. You don't need to be here for this." He shook his head.

"Don't I have a right to know what's going on?" Craig asked. "I have a right to be here."

"You might have a right, but I don't want you to go through any more shit. You understand? You're already dumping food again. You barely started eating, and now you're dumping fucking food in the trash. I should never have dragged your ass around with us for any of this shit. You're fucking fourteen years old, and I don't want to screw you up anymore than you are. You've got a lot of shit deal with already, you don't need any more. I thought it would be good for you to be a part of catching the scum that kill Ma, and hurt you, but I was wrong. I deal with shit different than you. You didn't need any more shit to deal with. I'm sorry for that. But I'm gonna change it, I'm not gonna drag you through anymore of this hell. You need to go to school and be with some friends, and have a chance to get your head straight, away from here." Bobby sounded so sincere that Craig almost believed him.

"But what about Jerry…" The boy started to ask.

"We'll have a discussion with Jerry, and we'll work it out." Bobby still remained calm.

"You don't have discussions." Craig muttered.

"I'm not gonna kill Jerry. I might want to if I don't like what the fuck he says, but I'm not gonna kill him." Bobby didn't sound quite so sure of his words that time.

"Bobby, I really don't want to go. I'll go upstairs and stay out of the way." Craig spoke weakly.

"You're fucking going to school. If you really can't deal with it, call home. But you need to give it a chance." Bobby drew in a deep breath. "You got any books upstairs that need you need to take?" He asked.

Craig shook his head slowly.

"You should probably head out soon?" Bobby asked.

"Not until fifteen after. Classes start at eight thirty." Craig felt the aching in his chest increase.

"Jack said he'd walk you?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head.

"Well, it's about eight now, why don't you go ahead and get your shit together?"

Craig drew in a deep breath. "There really isn't anything to get together." He muttered.

"What about lunch?" Bobby asked. "You need to pack a lunch. You got a backpack with your gym shorts and shirt? You need your shoes and socks on your feet?" Bobby pointed to the boy's bare feet. "Get to it." He ordered and walked back towards the kitchen.

Craig stood and went up to his room to put on his socks and shoes. He'd been counting on being able to stay home and had truly hoped he wouldn't have to put his shoes on.

While he sat on his bed tying his right shoe, he heard voices below, and Jerry's voice stood out among them. He quickly finished putting his shoes on and grabbed his backpack before heading down the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Sofi was standing in the doorway to the living room.

The boy stepped up next to her just as Bobby punched Jerry hard, sending him to the floor in front of the fireplace. "What are you hiding Jerry?" Bobby yelled at his brother, "Huh?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jerry cried out.

"If I find out you had something to do with happened to Ma, I swear to God Jerry, I'm gonna kill you right here and now!" Bobby was leaned over Jerry, holding him down, yelling in his face.

Craig felt his chest constrict with the aching he'd been fighting down, and he could feel tear trying to sting at his eyes.

"No Bobby no," Sofi cried out, putting an arm around the boy next to her.

Craig looked at Jack who was sitting on the couch, watching the whole thing like it was a bad movie. Angel stood behind Bobby, ready back him up. It was how they worked together, Bobby was the muscle, and Angel was the negotiator. Only this time it was Jerry they were using their skills on and it was causing a panic to rise inside of Craig. Bobby had said he didn't want him to be there for this, he'd wanted him out of the house. Apparently Jerry had shown up sooner than they had anticipated, and now, strangely enough, Craig was wishing he wasn't there to see it.

Bobby seemed to ignore all other people in the room. "Angel's gonna ask some questions, and brother, I shit you not, the time for lyin' is over."

Angel stepped up next to Bobby. "We know you're lyin' about your business and we know you got mixed up with some gangsters." He spat the words down at Jerry.

Jerry looked confused, and hurt. That was what Craig seen, and it was killing him to watch.

"Hold on man!" Jerry started to stand.

Bobby's right foot rose up and kicked the man back down to the floor hard. "Stay down!" He yelled at him.

"Y'all think I had something to do with Mom getting killed?" Jerry cried out, looking more hurt than before.

"You got a check for four hundred thousand that you just so happened to forget to mention, from Mom's life insurance." Angel threw the facts out there for Jerry to deal with.

"She took out the policy for the girls! Man, I ain't have nothin' to do with that! Come on." Jerry looked over at Jack. He didn't seem to understand how his brothers could come up with their conclusion, and at that moment, Craig knew Jerry hadn't done anything wrong. His brothers were wrong. They were wrong about everything they were thinking. He wanted to call out to Bobby and Angel to stop, but his voice couldn't make it out of his tightened throat.

"You made the payments." Jack called out from his place on the couch.

Bobby leaned back over Jerry again. "Good timin', Jerry!" He spoke with sarcasm. "Just when it seems like all is lost for you, Mom gets shot by some gangsters and now you hit the fucking lottery!" His voice rose in volume as he spoke.

"So y'all," Jerry seemed to be processing his brothers' words and actions, "Y'all are trippin' because I made insurance payment?" His own voice was taking on the tone of anger, and resentment. "What?" He pulled himself to his feet quickly, shoving Bobby hard in the chest, sending him back several feet, and then he turned to Angel and punched him in the face hard enough to send him crashing into the shelf on the wall, spilling the contents on the floor. "I paid all her bills!" He yelled at them. "Where the fuck were y'all? How many years did I have to take care of her and Craig my goddamn self? Y'all were around doin' nothin'! Bullshittin'! And you gonna tell me I killed her?" He looked more hurt than angry now. "Come on man."

"So why would you pay off a killer like Sweet? What the fuck did he do for you, Jerry?" Angel stepped up to Jerry, yelling in his face.

Craig felt as if he couldn't breathe in enough air at the moment. He needed to get out of there. Apparently Bobby was right, he didn't need to be there, and he didn't need this shit. He just wanted it all to go away. He pulled away from Sofi. "I'm going to school." He muttered. He could hear Jerry answering Angel's question, but tried to ignore the words. He walked out the door, onto the front porch, and moved outside quickly. He was down the front steps and headed for the corner before he felt a presence behind him. He thought it was Jack catching up to him to walk with him. Jack had said he would, and he hadn't looked very comfortable on the couch watching the argument that was taking place between the three oldest Mercers.

Craig turned to find see a large man in a black hooded sweatshirt, a ski mask covering his face. He didn't have the chance to yell out, or try to run before the man was grabbing him, and pressing a hand over his mouth. The assailant wrapped one hand around his waist and pressed hard on his mouth with the other hand, lifting him off the ground. Craig started hitting and kicking, and trying his best to scream out for his brothers, but it did not good. He could feel the man carrying him towards the opposite corner. He could see another man approaching the front door of the house and knocking on it. Moments later Jack was opening the door. Craig tried to scream out to Jack, was panicking inside as he watched the hoodlum throw a snowball at Jack. Jack was going after him ready to kick his ass and Craig felt terror take over him. He could see the man in the hockey mask pulling out a gun. He twisted his head from side to side; surprised when the hand over his mouth slipped enough that he could bite down on it hard. The hand pulled away, and Craig screamed as loud as he could. "Jack!" He let his voice ring out for a long moment, but it seemed to be too late. He could see Jack's attacker turn and aim at him, but the shot wasn't a loud blast, it was more like a loud fire cracker.

Craig was still kicking and hitting at the man hold him. He managed to get an elbow up far enough that he could crack it straight back into the face of the creep holding him. It was enough that the hold on him loosened and the boy twisted again, pulling free. "Jack!" He screamed again, running as fast as he could towards his brother, towards home. He could see Jack dropping to his knees in front of the shooter, and the gun pointing at Jack's head. "No!" Hot tears were burning down his cheeks now. He could see a van was parked on the street next to the house, and he could see another van coming up the street from the opposite direction.

"Jack!" Bobby's voice rang out from the front door. "Craig!" He ran out with his sawed off in his hands, Angel and Jerry were behind him, heading their way.

Bobby had covered half the distance to Jack when he stopped and aimed a gun at the armed man about to put a bullet into his brother. The shot hit the man in the chest, dropping him just as Craig reached Jack. Jack was able to get on his feet. He grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him around in front of him as the street seem to fill with masked men armed with automatics. The shots started riveting non-stop. Jack screamed out and dove into Craig from behind, landing on top of him in the snow bank next to the utility pole on the corner. Craig looked up to see the bullets hitting the house, bullets that had been aimed at his brothers. The three men were forced back inside.

"Bobby!" Jack screamed out as the blasts of the guns seemed to echo off the surrounding houses.

"Jack!" Bobby called out from the front porch.

Craig could feel Jack's warm blood soaking the back of his own shirt, and he felt himself freezing up on the inside. He could have sworn he could smell it. "Jack!" He cried out from under the man.

"It's okay." Jack rested his head down for a moment. "I'm right here." But his voice sounded strange to the boy. He raised his head back up again. "Bobby!" His voice sounded desperate now.

"Jack!" Bobby responded.

Craig could see Bobby rise up from behind the window of the front porch and fire back at the killers on their front lawn. Moments later more gunshots sounded from the house, and one of the men dropped into the snow. "Jack, hang on!" Bobby yelled.

Jack screamed out with no warning, and Craig felt his back exposed to the cold air. He felt arms grabbing at him and lifting him out of the snow. This time a hand didn't press over his mouth. Two men were dragging him away from the house by his arms. He couldn't get to his feet, he could only kick and scream out. They finally stopped, about the time that the gun fire seemed to silence. The gunshots only stopped for a moment, and it seemed as soon as they started again the men pulled the boy to his feet. One of them held him from behind, pinning his arms down. The second man stood in front of him, and though Craig tried to kick at him, it did no good. The man before him wore camouflage type clothes, and he held up a needle and syringe. The needle was thrust towards the boy. He felt a sharp stabbing pain in his left collarbone and realized the man had just jabbed the needle deep into him. He felt the liquid being plunged in, burning as it hit his tissue. He tried to fight, tried to get back to Jack, who had been rolled over onto his back.

"Bobby!" Craig screamed out, just as his mind started to tingle. His fingers and feet seemed to start to turn numb. He could feel himself being dragged backwards towards the dark colored van closest to the house. He continuted to try to squirm and kick, but his efforts were growing weak as his body seemed to be turning numb and wouldn't respond. His gaze stayed fixed on the men moving towards the house, the gun fire, echoing in his brain. He was sure he seen Angel coming out of the top floor window, and Bobby was now out front beating the shit out of one guy with a rock. His mind started to close down on him, and he was losing the fight to stay alert. He felt his body hit the floor of the interior of the van, and he screamed out again. "Bobby!" The world around him was starting to spin, and dip, making him feel sick to his stomach.

A fist cracked down on his jaw, and stars started to shimmer in front of his eyes.

"What the fuck you think you doin'?" A disembodied voice somewhere above the boy spoke. "He said not to bruise him up."

Craig fell into blackness as the van lurched forward. The sudden movement brought him back to a semi-state of being awake, but only enough to comprehend the van was moving, and it felt as if it were moving fast. Then he was out cold.

* * *

Bobby didn't hear Angel yelling at him. He didn't hear Jack or Craig screaming any more, and the fear of what was happening to his family spurred him on, landing the brick into the face of the man on the ground under him.

"Bobby!" Angel was moving towards Bobby, as the second van was heading straight towards him at full speed. "Bobby! Bobby! The van, watch out!" He reached Bobby just as the van was about to take the eldest Mercer down. He was pulling Bobby out of the path of the vehicle when Jerry's Volvo slammed into the side of it, sending it in the other direction and slamming into the car parked across the street.

Bobby and Angel looked at each other for a moment before running over to Jack, who was lying on his back in the snow. "Jack, Jack, look at me." Bobby grabbed Jack's head in his hands. He looked into the eyes of his little brother and could feel his heart breaking. "Jack, you alright?"

Jack seemed to be fighting to breathe, but he managed to speak in a raspy voice. "Craig, they took Craig."

Bobby turned towards Sofi who was running their way. "We need an ambulance! Somebody help!" He turned back to Jack. "Come one man." He felt tears threatening, Jack didn't look good, but Bobby checked out his injury, and while there was blood, it didn't seem there was a lot of it. That thought gave him a sick feeling inside.

"Craig…" Jack gasped as Jeremiah ran up, sitting down next to the pole.

"You don't worry about Craig, we'll find Craig. Don't you die on me you little fairy. Come on, Jack. Please?" Bobby felt as if his heart were being ripped out of his chest at that moment. Craig he could get back, if Jack died he was gone forever. He didn't think he could live with that. "You gotta fucking breathe!"

A weak smile formed on Jack's face. "I'm not gonna die." He coughed up some blood. "I'm just freezing my balls off here." He coughed again. Both Angel and Jerry forced smiles at the younger man's joke.

Bobby felt tears rolling down his cheeks. "You better not." He felt an anger building up inside of him as he watched his brother struggling to suck in air. He finally looked at Angel and Jerry, "Keep him awake, and breathing. He looked behind him at the van still sitting in the street. He stood and headed around the back end of it, seeing a gun on the ground as he moved; he bent down and grabbed it. He walked up to the driver's door, to find the man still leaned over the steering wheel. He aimed the gun at the ski mask in front of him. "Who sent you? Victor Sweet?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it was Sweet." The man spoke weakly.

"Why did he take my little brother?" Bobby yelled at him.

"He was part of a deal. I don't know what." The man breathed heavily.

"Part of a deal with who?" Bobby still yelled.

"A guy he works with, his name is Macks," Was the quiet response.Bobby let the gun lower.

"Thank God." The driver sighed with relief.

"Thank God?" Bobby raised the gun again. "He killed my mother, maybe my little brother, and stole my baby brother. Thank Victor Sweet." Bobby fired a round into the man's head.

The sirens could now be heard. He moved back to where Jack was laying. He knelt down next to his brothers. Jack looked up at Bobby, "Craig. You gotta find him." He spoke weakly.

"Don't you worry Jack, we'll find him. You're gonna be fine, and we'll find Craig, and it's all gonna be good." Bobby drew in a deep breath as he looked at the street in front of the house littered with bodies. He was sure explaining this to the police would be interesting.


	29. Chapter 29

Thanks again to all who are reviewing! I appreciate every one of them, and I hope they keep coming! I'm addicted to them :) Thansk for reading!

Disclaimer: Still don't own and still make not money from this story!

**_Chapter 29: Body Bags_**

Bobby stood in the street, watching the ambulance driving away with Jack in the back. He had told his little brother they would be at the hospital as soon as the police were done with them. Jack was being fed oxygen at the time and he couldn't respond to the words, but he'd looked his older in the eyes, and Bobby was sure he understood.

Bobby turned and looked at the street lined with police cruisers, and ambulances. Body bags held the remains of the gunmen who had shot up the Mercer house. Detectives and uniforms alike were carrying cameras, and taking photos from every angle. Yellow numbers were scattered across the street in random patterns, marking what the cops considered vital pieces of evidence.

"Bobby." Jerry spoke from the front steps of the house. He was sitting on the step towards the bottom, his arms resting on his long legs; Angel was sitting behind him, in the door way with both of his feet resting on the step directly behind his older brother.

Sofi was behind Angel, sitting on the floor of the porch, holding onto him, and looking as if she had been shaken up pretty bad. Bobby had never thought he'd feel for Sofi, but the girl was going to be a Mercer, and she seemed to be fitting in pretty good. She'd been shot at right alongside her man, and she was still there, holding onto him. Though she looked like she could become emotional at any moment, she was staying strong, and the man had to admit, that was a trait of the Mercers, though he could never come right out and tell her, he was proud of her.

Bobby walked up to the steps and sat down next to Jerry. From his perch on the steps the man observed the entire scene in front of their home. A detective was standing in front of the group at the end of the walkway with a pad and pen. He'd been asking Jerry, Angel and Sofi questions while Bobby was seeing Jack off at the back of the ambulance, but the brothers had kept the answers vague. They weren't sure if they could really trust the man. Green was walking up the street towards them, telling one officer what he wanted him to get a picture of. Bobby was thankful to see Green, though he'd never thought he'd feel that way about any cop.

Green approached the detective who was still writing in his notepad. "Hey, let me talk to them" He spoke casually.

The detective looked at Green, turned and walked up the street in the direction Green had just come. Green turned to look at the brothers. 

"Look, I'm real sorry, man, I really am, but what happened here?" He asked them.

Bobby looked up at Green. "Victor Sweet did this." He spoke flatly.

"How do you figure?" Green asked.

"Because his friend in the body bag over there told me," Bobby pointed towards the dead man.

"Okay, I'll make sure to get a statement from him then." Green glanced over at the body bag, and then returned his gaze to Bobby.

"He has my brother, they took Craig." Bobby added.

"Why did Sweet do us like this man?"Jerry spoke quietly, looking down at the ground.

"And why did it have to be our Mamma?" Angel asked with his voice sounding choked up, something rare for him.

Green drew in a deep breath. "Because Evelyn was going after him," He leveled his gaze on Jerry, who looked up at him, finally. "She knew her son, man. She never thought for a second that you were corrupt."

Jerry shook his head, and his voice sounded weak. "But I never told her about my business." He spoke the words slowly.

"Jerry, were you ever able to keep a secret from her? She knew all about your trouble, man. The moment they shut you down, she went down there, raising hell with the councilman." Green shared the information.

Bobby looked at Jerry for a long moment. He was mentally kicking himself in the ass at that moment. Their mother had stood up for Jerry, and he and Angel had been ready to pound him. He would have to remember to tell his brother he was sorry, if he remembered to get around to it later. He turned back to Green. "You gonna get our brother back and bury Sweet, or are we?" His voice sounded cold. He was ready to go after Sweet right then, guns blazing. "What do you know about a guy named Max?" He asked the question as an after thought, not thinking Green would actually have an answer for him.

Green stared at Bobby for a long moment. "Macks." He nodded his head. "Adam Macks." He glanced behind him; it seemed he was worried about someone else hearing him. "Adam Macks is Craig's father." He spoke with a quiet voice.

"What?" Bobby felt a vice tighten down on his chest. "Craig told us he's seen his Dad, but he never told us his name." Bobby shook his head. 

"His father works for Sweet?" He felt as if he'd been kicked hard in the stomach.

"Adam Macks was a small time thug for years. He pushed drugs, and did some pimping." Green looked at Bobby. "He found a bigger market for the drugs, and a better paying market in auctioning off the services of various aged females, and males, to the highest bidders." Green drew in a deep breath, "He trained his own son himself, to be sure he did what he was told, and the way he was told."

"What?" Bobby couldn't believe what Green was telling him. "Why didn't Craig tell us all of this?" He looked back at Angel, and then to Jerry.

"From what I could get from the transcripts of the trial, and the statements from the psychologists that worked with Craig the first two years after his mother's murder, and his father's arrest, the boy doesn't remember much of it, at least not consciously. He's repressed most of it. Evelyn knew his history because she worked with him at St. Vincent's."

Jerry looked up at Green, "St. Vincent's?" He repeated. "Why couldn't they place him? He was only seven years old when Mom brought him home, man."

"Craig had a lot of emotional issues. He was placed in only one foster home when he was released from the hospital. The man there was a firm believer in being strict with the kids. Apparently Craig lost it with him, bit and scratched at him, and tore him up bad. The kid wouldn't talk, eat or sleep. Evelyn worked with him for months, pulling him out of his shell, and you know the rest from there. No one was going to take him in, except for Evelyn Mercer."

"How the fuck did this guy get out of prison?" Angel asked the question quietly.

"Apparently he had connections with someone who hired a high profile lawyer who went through the whole case file with a fine tooth comb and found some technicality that got him out." Green informed. "I'll give you one guess who it was that it was he was connected with."

"He worked for Sweet." Bobby nodded his head.

"No, not for, with, he did business with him, partnered up on some deals. I'm thinking that when Sweet went after Evelyn he pulled Macks in because he knew about Craig, and figured he could use that factor somehow." Green glanced behind him again, at Fowler who was busy taking pictures of the crime scene.

Bobby nodded his head, "So, you never answered my question. "Are you going after him, or are we?" He asked.

Green looked at Bobby, "Well, I got me …" He hesitated and glanced at Fowler again, "a dirty uniform I gotta deal with first." He looked down at the ground for a moment before meeting Bobby's gaze.

"What?" Bobby looked pissed.

"Yeah, you see Evelyn filed a report that got passed onto Victor Sweet." Green spoke quietly

"By who?" Bobby pushed.

"Look I got somethin' that I…" Green started to speak.

"He has Craig." Bobby growled the words.

"And if he finds out I'm gunning for him, or trying to get the kid, he'll probably kill him." Green pointed out.

"Don't bullshit me, Green. Who are you protecting?" Bobby looked in the direction of Fowler, whom Green had been keeping a discreet watch over since he arrived, "Your boy Fowler?"

"Look, Fowler's my problem. But if he knows anything, then Sweet knows. I need to get rid of his ass first, got that? I'll deal with him, and then we get Sweet." Green turned to walk away.

"Green," Angel called out.

Green turned back to the men on the porch.

"So how we gonna deal with all this?" Angel waved his hands at the body bags, and police officers combing the street.

"Self defense, wasn't it?" Green sounded like the answer should be obvious to the men. He turned and walked into the activity on the street, leaving the Mercers sitting on the steps.

Bobby looked at Jerry, then turned and looked back at Angel and Sofi. "He has Craig." He spoke the obvious.

Angel nodded his head. "And we are gonna get him back." He looked at Jerry, as did Bobby.

Jerry looked at his brothers. "Yeah, I'm in on this, we get him back, and we get him back as soon as fucking possible."

* * *

Craig's head was pounding. He wasn't awake, but his head was pounding hard. His arms were aching, feeling as if they were being pulled out of his shoulder. He tried to move, tried to turn, but he couldn't. He didn't want to wake up, but the pain was drawing him out of his blissfully unaware state. He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't comply. Then he realized there was something over them, blocking him from seeing. His senses started coming back to him slowly. He was lying on his stomach, on hard concrete, and it was cold against his face.

His arms were pulled behind him, held in place by something that felt like a knife cutting into his wrists. He tried to move his legs, but something was hold his ankles together tightly, and his knees, with the same cutting sensation as his wrists. That was when he realized his pants, his socks and his shoes were missing, as was the shirt he'd been wearing over his t-shirt.

He tried to rub his face against the concrete to loosen whatever was covering his eyes, but it wouldn't move. The effort he was putting into it seemed to take most of his strength and his breath. He felt groggy, and disoriented. It wasn't until he tried to call out for someone that he realized that a cloth of some kind had been stuffed into his mouth, and his mouth was taped closed. He could feel thick, sticky tape that had been pressed across his face almost from ear to ear. It felt too heavy to be one layer of tape. It seemed there were several strips weaved over each other to prevent it from coming loose, and it was holding his mouth shut tight. That was why it was so hard to breathe. He didn't understand what was going on, the drug was still working in his system, and he felt confused.

He tried to remember that morning, and what had happened. His memories of the events were choppy and fuzzy. He could remember hearing Jerry's voice, and he remembered going down the stairs. After that it was blank. He turned his head so that his left check was resting on the ground. He tried to shift his body onto his left side, but he couldn't seem to get enough strength into the roll to accomplish the task.

"Looks like he's awake," A voice spoke from somewhere nearby.

"I thought that shit was supposed to keep him out for a few hours." Another voice responded. "Pump him with some more."

"I can't, if we give him too much he won't wake up when the man wants him awake." The first voice countered, and it seemed to be moving closer to him. "Keep still kid, no one wants you moving about." A boot pressed down on his back, between his shoulder blades. "I'll have to hit you with the needle again if you don't behave like a nice little runt."

"Hey, you want a go at him? He's all primed and ready you know." The other man's voice spoke with an evil sounding laugh.

"Are you crazy man, or you just have a death wish?" The man stepping on Craig's back spoke. "Sweet wants this one reserved for somethin' special. You touch him, and you're dead."

Craig felt a shiver run through him. His mind was flashing pictures of Jack lying in the snow, bleeding. His brothers trapped in the house, trying to fight back, but they were outnumbered. For all he knew all four of his brothers were dead. He tried to cry out, tried to lift his body, but the foot pressed harder, causing pain to shoot down his spine.

"Kid, don't test me. Your old man said you would listen; don't turn him into a fucking liar!" The man pressing his hard boot down on him spoke in a harsh tone. "That's only gonna make it harder for you."

Craig tried to fight down the panic he was feeling. He thought about the fact that his pants were missing, along with his shirt and his socks and shoes. He was cold, and the cement under him only made it worse. He didn't try to move, he didn't try to resist the pressure of the foot holding him down.

He wished the gag would be pulled out of his mouth. The inside of his mouth was dry, and his throat hurt. He wanted water. He wanted a big glass of water, and a thick blanket to roll up into. He was freezing and the cold seemed to intensify with every passing second. He tried not to shiver, tried to stay still, but he was so uncomfortable, and the fear was building in him so quickly that he couldn't stop from shaking.

"Hey, kid, you really as good as your daddy say's you are?" The second voice spoke teasingly. "Huh? You wanna demonstrate for me once like a good fuck?"

Both men laughed and Craig's body tried to twist instinctively, tried to get out from under the boot on his back, not that it did him much good.

"Come on, man, give him another shot and let me have him for a little bit. No one will ever know. Hell we're gonna be stuck here with him for a while, we may as well get somethin' out of it." The second voice spoke again. " I could do some things with that one."

"You are one sick fucker." The owner of the foot in Craig's back laughed. "No, you don't need to do shit with him. We need to be ready to move with him as soon as the phone call comes in." The man sighed. "But give me the needle anyway; I'll give him half a dose and that should put him back out for a while and we can get back to our game."

Moments later Craig heard footsteps coming towards him, the foot lifted off of his back, and then a stabbing sensation hit his right thigh. He couldn't struggle against them, he couldn't get away. He felt his mind starting to shut down, just as it had earlier. He was afraid, and he wanted Bobby. That was all he could think of at that moment. He wanted Bobby to come and take him home. But Bobby was probably dead, he reminded himself as the nothingness tried to take over. He fought against the drug induced sleep, but it was doing no good. He felt his muscles relax, and that put a strain on his arms. He could do nothing but let himself drift into the sleep, praying that someone would help him.

* * *

Bobby stood at the end of the waiting room, staring out the window at the grey and white world outside the hospital. There seemed to be no color beyond the glass. Even the cars, caked in street grime and salt residue seemed void of color. It was as if he were looking out into a real life version of one of Craig's sketches with the grey clouds heavy over head, and the snow, dirty from the traffic in and out of the parking area was grey, and black and in spots didn't cover the blacktop. The thought twisted his heart around in his chest. Craig didn't have his sketch book with him. That seemed wrong to him, though he had never thought much of the boy's need to have that book of paper with him before, he did now, and it just seemed wrong that he was without it. He didn't know what to do.

Sofi was at the house, keeping a vigil at the phone, just in case Sweet decided to call to try to make a deal for the youngest Mercer, but Bobby didn't have any real hope of that happening. Green wasn't going to be much help, he had Fowler to deal with, and as much as he hated to admit it, Green was right about Fowler having to be out of the picture before the police could do anything, the piece of shit would pass any information onto Sweet that he could. That meant it was going to be up to him and his brothers.

Part of him wanted to take to the streets at that moment, but there was another part of him that couldn't leave Jack. He was sure it was the same with Jerry and Angel who were sitting just a few yards away in the waiting area of the emergency surgery unit. Jerry had been handed a beeper and when there was any news on Jack they would be paged so they would know to go to the front desk.

Bobby had visited the front desk a few times already, thinking that the pager they gave them might be broken; it did look pretty worn and beaten. It had been over four hours since his little brother was taken into surgery, it just seemed the longer they waited the more frustrated and scared the man felt. The woman he spoke to each time seemed to be a little more annoyed each time she told him she hadn't tried to call for them yet.

"Bobby," Angel's voice drew the man out of his thoughts and he turned to look at his brothers. Angel was on his feet, calling to him quietly. Jerry was gathering up his coat and a cold cup of coffee he'd grabbed from the machine down the hall.

Bobby walked towards them. "What, did it finally make some noise?" He asked them.

"Yeah, it finally made some noise, man, let's go." Jerry answered and walked ahead of them towards the front of the waiting area, where the desk was located.

Bobby wondered why they called it a desk. It was a long counter with four woman seated behind it in little cubicles. Jerry stepped up to the older woman they had been dealing with. "You have news about Jack Mercer?"

The woman smiled this time. "Yes, actually, I do." She looked at Bobby pointedly for a moment, and then turned back to Jerry. "He's out of surgery, and the doctor with be out in a few minutes to talk to you." She spoke calmly.

"Can you tell us how it went? How is he?" Angel asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't have details. They called up and informed us that the doctor was on his way to talk to you. He should be here shortly. You can have a seat, or you can wait here at the desk. We'll call you with the beeper again." The woman nodded towards the device in Jerry's hands.

"What?" Bobby shook his head, thinking that the action might make the woman's words make more sense to him. "You called us up here to tell us you were going to call us up here?" He asked with disbelief.

"Look, he's out of surgery that should be something to ease your mind." The woman seemed to understand the frustration in Bobby's voice. "They don't have us call you to tell you that we are going to call you if the news is bad." She winked at Bobby and pointed to the chairs lining the wall where they had been sitting most for most of the past four hours. "Now go sit."

Bobby felt a weight lifting off of his chest. If he didn't know better, he would almost swear Evelyn Mercer was sitting on the other side of the counter the way this woman spoke to him. He supposed it was her age; she looked like she was pushing sixty, and her hair was mostly grey. The tone in her voice was so close to the same tone his mother would use with him when she was trying to drive home a point that it felt as if she was there, right at that moment, driving home her point. "Yes Ma-am." He turned and obediently walked over to a chair and sat down.

Jerry and Angel exchanged surprised looks before joining him.

Bobby looked at his brothers. "He's gonna be fine, he's gonna be just fine." He nodded his head.

"Once we're sure of that, then what?" Angel looked at Bobby.

"Then we do what Green can't. We go after Sweet." Bobby looked at Angel.

"We need a plan." Jerry spoke quietly.

"I'm working on it." Bobby muttered, though his mind had been trying to come up with something, it seemed to be void of any real plans or solutions. He was still trying though.

"Look, there's room at the house. Y'all and Sofi need to come stay the night." Jerry offered. "It's gonna get fucking cold after dark, y'all know that."

"We stay at Ma's." Bobby looked at Jerry. "We don't need to be bringing nothin' down on your family Jerry." He spoke carefully. "We stay at the Ma's, and that includes you. If they come after us again, we'll be ready and your girls won't be in the middle."

Jerry nodded his head. "You gotta point." He spoke quietly.

They were quiet for a long time. Angel reached over and smacked Jerry's arm. "Is that the doctor?" He pointed to a young man wearing surgery scrubs standing at the counter.

"I hope so." Jerry muttered.

The beeper rang out, and all three men stood. Now they would find out some news about Jack, finally.


	30. Chapter 30

Thanks for reading, and as always, let me know what you think. Haven't heard from some of you lately and I miss knowing what you think, good or bad :)

Disclaimer still counts for this one...

* * *

**_Chapter 30: Man Number Three_**

Craig shivered hard, he was freezing. He could feel the cold, but he couldn't pinpoint its source. He wanted to go downstairs to the thermostat and turn the heat up. Or maybe the furnace wasn't working right, he needed to find Bobby, or Angel, or Jack, and let one of them know. How could they not feel the cold? He tried to curl up into a ball in an attempt to get warm, but his body wouldn't move at his command. He thought that he might have smelled bacon and eggs cooking, and his stomach growled at the thought of food. Bobby would be happy; he was actually hungry for a change.

"I think he's waking up." The same voice from the boot that had been pressed into his back spoke somewhere out in the darkness, shattering the boy's escape from reality, bringing back the events of the morning and the nightmare he was living.

He wasn't at home, he wasn't in bed, and he didn't smell food cooking. He was lying on a cold floor, with his hands and legs tied. He couldn't open his eyes to see, and he couldn't speak. He couldn't even swallow. He was thirsty, and it was harder to breathe now than before from the gag shoved into his mouth.

Footsteps echoed off the cement, and it sounded like more than one pair of boots. "I guess that worked out." The second voice sounded as if it were right above him. "Put him on the plastic, and let's get moving."

Hands were grabbing as his arms and legs, lifting him, and carrying him. He was dropped hard back to the cement, but there was thick plastic between him and the hard floor. He heard what sounded like duct tape being pulled away from its roll. The plastic was folded over onto his back and then the tape was pressed along it to hold it in place. He felt himself being rolled up into the rest of the plastic, and then the tape was again used to secure the plastic so that it wouldn't open up. As frightening as it was, the plastic seemed to warm him almost instantly, except for his feet, which were hanging out the end. Then he was lifted and slung over some one's shoulder. He heard what sounded like a car trunk opening, and then he was dropped hard, and the trunk slammed shut. He could hear the men's voices, sounding muffled and faraway. Hs feet felt carpeting under them, and he was sure he was in a trunk. He heard the car engine start after what seemed to be a long time, and then he felt movement. He couldn't move, and his throat was screaming out for water. Where ever they were going, he prayed someone would give him some water.

He felt his mind drifting in and out. He'd fall into peaceful blackness for a short time, and be jerked out of it with a hard stop from the car, or a sharp turn, which slid him into the wall of the trunk. He thought he could hear a radio at times, and at other times he couldn't. His feet started to tingle because the cramped position he was in was cutting off the blood flow to his feet. His knees ached, as did his ankles and his arms. His hands felt swollen, but they weren't numb.

The smell of exhaust started to sting his nose as it made its way into the plastic he'd been rolled into. He tried to move his head in a direction that he wouldn't breathe in the fumes, but it was useless. His stomach started to feel nauseous as the fumes seemed to get stronger. The fear increased inside him. He couldn't throw up, he would choke. He couldn't swallow it back, and he the fumes seemed to get worse. His head started to hurt, and he was sure this was it, he was about to die.

The car came to a stop, and the engine was cut. Craig felt relief when the fumes started to ease off. He still couldn't move though, and his legs wanted to cramp up on him. It seemed he was left in the trunk for a long time before it was opened and he was picked, slung over a shoulder and carried. It felt as if he were being carried down stairs, metal stairs. He was dropped down onto a floor and left there.

"It's about fucking time. What took you so long?" The voice was strange to him, it was quiet, but it held a threat to it. "I pay you good money to be precise."

"Traffic was terrible." The sick fucker who had wanted to have his time with Craig answered.

"You took the proper precautions I see." The voice moved closer. "Get him out."

Craig felt the plastic loosen around him, and then it was pulled, rolling him out of it. He hit a carpeted floor, soft, plush carpet, and he was thankful for that.

"Take him to the back and get that shit off of him. What the fuck is the matter with you. I said contain him, not torture him." The voice was still above the boy. "Give him some water, clean him up a little and let him take a piss, then put some fucking clothes on him."

Craig felt a hand grab each of his arms just below his shoulders and he was pulled, his legs dragging, across the carpet, onto what sounded like hard wood, then more carpet before he was dropped back onto his stomach. He felt the cold blade of a knife brush against his right arm, and seconds later his wrists were free. His arms fell almost lifeless next to his side, aching intensely as did his hands. Next the binding around his knees was cut away and finally his ankles. His feet started to tingle from the sudden rush of blood. Craig stayed perfectly still, praying the pain would stop once blood had reached the areas it had been fighting so hard to get to.

Moments later he was rolled onto his back, and the tape started peeling away. It felt as if part of his skin was being ripped off with each strip. Once his mouth was free of the tape it was opened and the rag was pulled out. The boy tried to swallow, but his throat felt hot and dry, and it didn't want to move.

A hand started to remove the tape covering his eyes.

"You fuck, are you nuts? You leave that on him. I don't want him able to pick me out of no fucking line-up." The voice belonged to the owner of the syringe and boot. "I'll go get him some water. Put these on him."

Seconds passed and the hand moved away from the tape, only to wrap around Craig's throat. "I'm gonna have my way with you sooner or later kid. I'll have my chance. Ain't like you're gonna be leaving here anytime soon." The voice of the ass hole who had wanted to mess with him earlier spoke directly into Craig's face. Craig could smell the stench of infected teeth with each syllable the man sputtered from his mouth. He felt legs straddle his body, and the thought of what he was about to do to him made him feel sick inside.

The hand moved down Craig's stomach and was nearing the band of his underpants when the boy reacted on instinct, pulling his right knee up hard into where he estimated the man's groin would be. Pain shot through his knee when he made contact, but he didn't care, he was satisfied when the man rolled away from him, crying out in pain. Craig tried to reach for the tape covering his eyes, to pull it away, but didn't have the chance before a heavy boot stomped hard onto his stomach, pushing the air out of his lungs. His arms wrapped around his stomach hard, and he rolled onto his right side, gasping to suck in air. His lungs didn't co-operate, they throbbed hard from the impact that had been thrust down on them.

"You little fuck!" The man who had been about to put his hand down his underwear yelled at him, and then a sharp kick to his back seemed to vibrate down his spine.

Craig would have cried out if his throat hadn't been so dry. The kick forced his back to arch, and air pulled into his lungs. He felt tears trying to seep out, but his eyes were taped shut too tightly. He tried to pull away from the kick, only to have hands grabbing at his arms, pulling him onto his back. The grip moved to his wrists, holding them down on the floor hard, and now someone was sitting on top of him again. It didn't feel like the sick fucker he'd just kneed in the balls.

"What the fuck happened. I was only gone a few seconds." The first man had returned to the room and it seemed was the one on top of him now. Craig didn't know any other way to think of them, the first man, with the boot and needle, and the second man with an appetite for boys.

He wanted to go home, he wanted his mother. He wanted her to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He wanted his brothers to come and get him. Bobby had said that his brothers would protect him, but they weren't there, and he was sure they would have been if they were alive. His heart ached, and his stomach tightened.

"He just went fucking crazy, trying to fight me." The second man lied.

"You ass, you tried something, didn't you? You want the man to catch you doin' that shit?" The first man spoke loud.

Hands were still gripping his wrists. They were pulled up hard, raising Craig's back off of the floor. and Craig felt what he could only indentify as handcuffs being closed around both wrists, above his head. When the hand let go of him, his arms remained above him, holding him suspended off the floor from the waist up.

A hand grabbed him by his hair and raised his head. "Open your mouth kid, I got water for you." The first man ordered.

Craig complied, praying it wasn't a trick. He needed water. Moments later water was running in a slow stream into him mouth and hitting his throat, some of it missed his mouth and ran down his chin. He managed to swallow what did hit his mouth, and was thankful for the little relief he felt. The water stopped too soon for him, and he thought he might start crying, but he held it in.

"Cut that shirt off of him." The first man spoke. "I got this end. We don't want you touching shit you shouldn't." His voice was cynical sounding.

"I didn't touch shit." The second man growled the words.

The first man laughed.

Craig felt his underwear being pulled down his legs and off. Moments later the sleeves on his t-shirt were being cut with a knife, and then the front of his shirt was cut until if fell off of him. The blade of the knife pressed against his throat. "I don't see nothin' so special about you, kid, why the fuck does he care if he has you or not?"

"Enough." The third voice, the man who seemed to be giving the orders filled the room. The blade of the knife moved instantly. "Did you try anything with him?" The voice moved closer.

"Of course not," Man number two lied.

"Yes he did." Craig forced his caked voice to rasp the words out of his throat, though it hurt terribly.

"You shut the fuck up little boy." Man number three yelled the words. "Don't force me to show you your proper place. I can make you beg for my man to have his way with you. Do you know why you are even here?"

Craig didn't try to answer; the man's voice was pure evil. He was sure he was listening to the devil himself at that moment.

"You are here for one purpose, to teach that Daddy of yours a fucking lesson. You are supposed to be handed over to him in a few hours. I have my own plans though. The man screwed me. He didn't listen to what the fuck I told him! Now, if you play your cards right, you might be lucky enough to make it out of this little situation alive." The man wasn't yelling any more, in fact, his voice had leveled off, and was eerily calm. "You are my property now. I own your ass. That means if I say you will comply with my man's request for your service, you will submit to that without question. If you have a problem understanding that I can clarify."

Craig felt his body start to tremble.

"In fact, get your ass up on your knees, and give him a kiss on his bruised balls." The man laughed a quiet, angry sounding laugh.

Craig didn't move, he couldn't move. His body was frozen with fear.

"I said get up on your knees!"The man moved closer.

Craig still didn't move. A hand grabbed his hair again, pulling up on him, forcing him to pull his knees up and under his body. Once Craig was on his knees he could feel the cold pipes his hands were cuffed to. His head was jerked back, and moments later it was shoved forward into the pants crotch of a man.

"Kiss it!" Man number three yelled.

Craig gagged at the thought of where his face was being held.

The man he was being pushed into started moving from side to side, man number two, Craig could tell, because he started laughing. Then he felt something cold and hard against his ear, and he didn't have to try to guess at the presence of a gun barrel being pushed against him, the sound of the weapon being cocked told him all he needed to know. "I said kiss it. You had the guts to knee him; you can kiss it and make it all better for him." Man number three laughed.

Craig trembled as he complied with the command.

Both men laughed hard for a few minutes, leaving the boy's face pressed in place. Finally, Craig felt the hand pulling his head back. "That's my good boy." The hand patted the top of his head gently. "Now, you listen closely. You only do that if I tell you to. If anyone tries to have any part of you without my say so, they get their fucking head blown off."

The sound of the gunshot echoed off of the walls, and Craig felt the splatter of warm, wet liquid spray his face and body. Within seconds there was a hard thud on the floor in front of him. He started screaming instantly trying to pull away from what he was sure was a dead body in front of him.

"Shut the fuck up!" Man number three yelled, jerking the boy's head back hard. "I will put that gag back in your mouth if you don't shut up!" He threatened.

Craig silenced instantly, but couldn't stop his body from trembling from fear. He suddenly felt ice cold again.

"Now, you remember, you are mine, and you will do what I say, when I say, and nothing more. You eat when I tell you, you sleep when I tell you. You are not your Daddy's dog anymore, you are mine, and you will obey every word I say. As long as you do, no one will do anything to you that they shouldn't." The hand released its hold on the boy's hair. "Now get back down on the fucking floor, and stay still until you have been cleaned off and dressed."

Craig did what the man told him. He held onto the pipe with his hands, pulling away from where he was sure the dead body was lying, lowering his body down to the position it had been in before he'd been pulled to his knees. It hurt his arms to hang from the pipe but he was more afraid of what would happen to him if he didn't do what the man said.

"Good boy." The man laughed and walked away. "Get him cleaned up and dressed, then get him something to eat."

Craig listened to the footsteps leave the room.

"Okay kid, let's get your ass cleaned up and ready to see Daddy." Man number one laughed.

Craig let the man do what he needed to clean him off, thankfull to have the blood removed. The thought of it touching him made his skin crawl. He wanted to go home, he wanted to wake up in his own bed and have this all be a very bad nightmare. He had no idea who man number three was, but he could guess that it was Victor Sweet, and he was beginning to see just how cruel that man could be. He didn't want him mad at him, and that meant he would do what he said, he didn't see any choice. He could see that Bobby was no where as crazy as he'd thought he was. Sweet was far worse.

* * *

Bobby stood beside the hospital bed, in the I.C.U., holding his little brother's hand. Jack had been sleeping for hours, and the doctor had said that was best, for now. He said it would be difficult for Jack to be awake with the respirator in place. Hopefully after two or three days the tube could come out, and Jack would breathe on his own, if all went well that is.

"Bobby, we're ready." Angel spoke from the doorway.

Bobby turned and looked at Angel. "It feels wrong leaving him." He spoke quietly.

"You heard the doctor. He's gonna sleep for a couple of days. Don't you think that maybe it would be nice to be able to tell him we have Craig back when he does wake up?" Jerry spoke from behind Angel.

Bobby looked at Jerry. "So, who has the first watch in the morning?" He asked.

"Sofi," Angel answered. "She'll be here at eight o'clock sharp and she will call us if there is any news at all. She's gonna explain to Jack what we are doing and why we ain't here."

Bobby nodded his head.

"Camille said she would be here in the afternoon. Her mother is gonna take the girls for her." Jerry nodded his head. "We got it under control man."

"I'm sure he's heard every word you've said to him too. Don't think we don't know you've been here telling him what we need to do. He understands, I'm sure of that." Angel turned and walked out of the room.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and looked at Jack again. "Okay, Jackie, we gotta go now. Like I said before, we know one brother is good, now we gotta go get the kid. I love ya man." He whispered. He felt Jack's hand give his a slight squeeze and had to let a small smile slip. "We're all gonna be okay Jack. We'll be back tomorrow, as soon as we can." He turned and walked out of the room.

When the brothers got back to the house they found that Sofi had cleaned the glass that had been shattered throughout the house. The objects in the house that had been shot up and spewed about the floor had either been gathered into a pile on the floor in the dining room, and what was salvageable had been returned to its original place, whether it was a knick-knack that had been on a shelf or a picture that had been hanging on a wall. Bobby drew in a deep breath and had to admit he didn't think he could have handled walking into the house to find the disaster in which they had left it. He walked through the entire downstairs floor, inspecting what he could, and estimating what they were going to need to repair the house. It seemed there were bullet holes in every wall, and the windows at the front of the house were destroyed. The police it seemed had shown some care in keeping their crime scene in good condition, and then Sofi had been busy once the police had left.

"There should be some plastic in the garage." Jerry spoke from the living room, where he was inspecting the damage in front of him. "And I can bring some boards in later to cover the windows until we can get them replaced.

Angel stood in the middle of the living room, looking at the record player that still set where it had rested for years. It appeared to be destroyed, but Sofi hadn't moved it. "Man, I don't think I can handle bein' in here right now." He spoke quietly.

"Relax brother, we're gonna get this taken care of." Bobby looked at Angel, not able to remember a time in recent years that Angel looked so lost. He looked in the direction of Angel's stare and felt his own heart aching. "Don't worry, we can fix it." He looked back at Angel. "Where is Sofi?" He truly felt he needed to thank the girl.

Angel looked away from the record player. "She's stayin' at her Mamma's tonight. I don't want her here right now."

"We all need to get these windows covered as good as we can, and then we need to get some sleep, it's been a long day. In the morning we can look into what can be fixed and what can't be fixed. It's getting late, and we all need to be sharp thinkers in the morning." Jerry turned and looked at Bobby.

Bobby looked at Jerry and nodded his head. "He's right. Let's get the plastic and get this taken care of." He motioned towards the front windows.

A little over an hour later the windows in the living room, Jack's room and Evelyn's room were covered with plastic to hold back as much of the night air as possible. Angel's room had been spared any of the onslaught, as had Craig's room.

Once the left over plastic had been returned to the garage Jerry and Angel decided to get some food. Bobby went upstairs with all intentions of getting a shower. He stopped at Craig's bedroom door, reached in and flipped on the light, and stared into the room. He looked at the perfect condition it was in and shook his head. The kid was a neat freak. That was something Bobby needed to work on. Sure he was glad he wasn't a slob, but at fourteen, being that particular about his room just didn't seem right. He needed to learn to relax a little. The man stepped into the room and walked over to the bed. He sat down on and stared at the blank walls, and the dresser which held nothing more than an alarm clock. He sighed, wondering why a kid that age didn't have any junk laying about.

"Hey," Jerry appeared in the doorway. "I'm gonna sleep in Jack's room." He announced.

"You get your food?" Bobby asked, knowing there hadn't been enough time for the man to eat.

"I had a little." Jerry nodded his head. "Kind of lost my appetite," He shrugged his shoulders.

Bobby nodded his head. "Take Ma's bed." He offered.

"What about you?" Jerry asked.

"I think I'm gonna stay in here tonight." Bobby looked around the room.

Jerry nodded his head. "He's gonna be fine Bobby." He spoke quietly.

"We don't know if he's warm enough Jerr'. Has he had any food? What the fuck do they want with him? Sweet took him to give to his father? That don't sound right to me, what about you? And from what Green said, the sick fucker who calls himself a father is one twisted pervert." Bobby tried to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Jerry nodded his head. "We are going to get him back, one way or another. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it. Green will back us up on this, you know that. The report has been filed, and the cops are looking too."

Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah, I do know that." He sighed. "That means Fowler's telling Sweet everything that's goin' on."

"Let's get some sleep then brother; we got work to do in the morning," Jerry moved away from the door. "He ain't got no idea what the fuck we're doin'." He spoke as he walked away from the door.

Bobby lay back on the bed and stared at the walls again. "Keep an eye on him Ma, keep him safe. We'll find him, let him know that." He spoke in a quiet voice.

"Amen." Angel spoke as he walked past the open door in the direction of his room.


	31. Chapter 31

Hey all, let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Don't own and make no money...still

**_Chapter 31: We Need a Plan_**

Craig cringed at the thought of someone washing him. The man didn't do anything but wash him, but it still felt humiliating. Once he was washed he was quickly dried with a towel and then left hanging from the pipe, his shoulders feeling as if they were going to come out of their sockets. The man left the room, but Craig didn't move. He could still feel the cold barrel of the gun against his ear, and he didn't want to chance having that gun in that position again. The room was silent, but he could hear distant voices. Man number one and man number three. Victor Sweet was man number three, he was certain of that. The man had paid shooters to kill his mother. He'd sent men with guns to their house and had probably killed his brothers. He didn't know what was going to happen to him. They had mentioned his father, and man number three had made remarks that did not sound promising for the man, but where did that leave him?

"Okay, let's get some clothes on you." Man number one came back into the room.

Moments later Craig felt thin pants being pulled onto him. They had an elastic band at the waist, but they fit loosely. The cuff was removed from his left wrist and he fell back onto the floor, both hands free of the pipe. His arms were grabbed and he was pulled to his feet. "Stand still now kid, don't give me a reason to get the boss." Man number one warned.

A shirt was pulled down over his head, feeling like the same material as the pants, thin and smooth and very loose. "You can put your arms in the sleeves, can't you?"

Craig slowly felt with his hands for the sleeves, and slid his arms into them shakily, struggling with the handcuffs that were still hanging from his right wrist. His legs felt weak, like noodles trying to hold his weight. He flinched slightly when hands grabbed his wrists again and pulled them behind him. The empty handcuff was clamped tightly to his left wrist again, and then the right one was pushed down tighter than it had been.

"You are coming out here to eat. You do what you're told and you got nothin' to worry about." Man number one took a hard hold of his left arm and jerked him in the direction he needed him to walk.

Craig had no choice but to walk, though is legs didn't want to co-operate. When they walked out of the room his feet hit a hold hard surface that felt like wood. He bumped into a wall and knew they were walking down a hall way. He wondered if they were in an apartment, but then he remembered the sensation of being carried down stairs when they had first arrived. A basement, maybe, but the door to this basement had been outside, he was sure of that. He hit the wall again as he was pushed ahead of the man through a doorway, and then he pulled to a hard stop on what felt like cement. He was pushed down to his knees, and the grip on his arm was released.

A scraping sound vibrated through the air, and it took Craig a moment to connect the sound with a chair being pulled across the floor and then set directly in front of him. Man number one it seemed was sitting right in front of him. "Open your mouth." He ordered.

Craig opened his mouth and a spoonful of rice was shoveled into it. The rice had no seasoning, and it wasn't fully cooked, but Craig chewed it quickly. He was hungry. As soon as he had it swallowed the spoon was back forcing more into him. He had five spoons before it stopped coming.

"You want some milk?" The man asked as the rim of a glass was pressed against his mouth.

Craig carefully placed his lips around the rim and accepted the drink of milk, though it was only a small drink.

"Okay, that's all you get, for now." Man number three spoke from somewhere in the room. "That's a good boy, you did that very well. Do you like having someone feed you boy?" He asked.

Craig felt the cold rising in him again.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" Man number three yelled the words loud. "Do you like being fed this way?"

Craig flinched, fear choking off his ability to speak for a moment. He swallowed hard. "No sir." He muttered,unable to keep his voice steady, and wanting to kick himself for letting the fear show so easily.

"No?" The voice was coming close to him. "You don't like having things place in your mouth?" He still sounded angry. "I heard that you liked having things placed in your mouth."

Craig tried to believe the man wasn't referring to the obvious; he tried to tell himself he wasn't talking about the things his father had done to him when he was younger but he knew better. He couldn't lie to himself. His father had told too many people about what he'd done with his son.

A hand ran rested on his forehead for a moment, then slowly pushed his head back so that it was tilted upwards. "Open your mouth." The voice was quiet, and as before, calm sounding with a malevolent undertone to it.

Craig felt tears trying to sting his eyes. "Please stop?" he asked before the he could stop himself. His voice was weak and shaky and laced with tears that were trying to flow, but couldn't escape the tape over his eyes.

"Please stop?" Man number three laughed. "I haven't even started yet child."

Craig felt a hand grab hold of his jaw hard. "Open your mouth." Man number three ordered him as he squeezed hard into the boy's jaw, forcing his mouth open. Craig waited for the worst, What came was another rag being shoved into his mouth, this time it was larger than the first, and it was pushed further back into his mouth, causing his throat to threaten to gag. His mouth was forced closed as far as it could be, and then he heard the sound of the tape being ripped from a roll. Five strips were pressed hard down on his mouth. "The next time I tell you to do something, you will do it." The man moved both hands away, and Craig thought it was over.

With no warning a hard blow was delivered to the right side of his face, sending him to the floor. He felt blood running down the side of his face from a gash. He had no idea what the man had hit him with, but it had been sharp.

"Fuck." Man number three spoke after a few moments. "You ruined my ring." He stepped up to the boy who lay motionless on the floor. "For that, you will have to be punished."

Craig tried to level out his breathing, it was coming in short and quick gasps, as panic and pain seemed to blend together and settle in his chest, cutting off his ability to control his lungs.

"Bring him to the warehouse. It's about time we make sure he listens to what he's told. I tried to be nice, and give him some compassion. What do I get? He disobeys me. Tape up his fucking ankles. He's not going to be allowed to walk for a very long time." Man number three walked away. "It's time for his daddy to see him, and decide if he's gonna pay for him." The sound of footsteps leaving the room echoed across floor.

Craig felt the hand grab his arm and jerk him onto his stomach. "I told you to do what you were told. Now look at what you did." Man number one spoke from behind him. Craig heard more of the tape being ripped, and then the man was pushing his feet together, and pulling the thin pant legs up out of the way. The tape was wrapped around his ankles, and worked up the calves of his legs. "Don't argue with him anymore, and do what he tells you to." He spoke once his task was accomplished.

Craig felt himself being rolled onto his back, and then lifted and held on the man's shoulder the same as he had been earlier. It seemed he was carried for a long time. He felt cold air hit his body as a door was pushed open. From the shrieking sound of the hinges it was a heavy, metal type of door. Craig started shivering instantly. He was brought down carefully, and was surprised that he was being placed on his stomach on what felt like a mattress. The air around him was freezing though, and he could have sworn he felt air moving, as if they were outside.

"You got that needle?" Man number three was somewhere close.

"I got it." Man number answered.

"Good. Give him just enough to keep him obedient and still." Man number three ordered.

Moments later Craig felt the pants being pulled down to expose his left butt cheek, and then the needle was stabbing into him. He couldn't cry out, though the injection burned, just as it had before. He felt the familiar sensation of his head swimming in fog, and his whole body relaxed, but he didn't find the comfort of sleep coming this time. He was still awake, and aware, just unable to move, or clear his head of the confusion.

He felt a presence at his left ear, and then hot breath as words were spoken. He couldn't tell who was speaking, the voice sounded distorted, but it had a wickedness to it that could only be owned by man number three, the man he was certain was Victor Sweet, though the name had not been mentioned.

"You do as I say, or you will not live past this night." The voice warned. "Do not cross me."

Craig had no choice but remain perfectly still as he listened to the wind blowing around him.

"You think we should cover him or something?" The other voice spoke, but it sounded just as distorted as the first, Craig could only guess it was man number one, the one who seemed to be half way nice to him.

"Hell no, I said he was going to be punished." Number three responded. "Do not question me agian."

Their voices continued, but the words started to sound foreign to the boy, the drug seemed to distort the syllables.

The cold seemed to penetrate his body, causing him to shake hard. His toes and fingers were going numb, but at the same time they hurt. He didn't try to move, though he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball to try to warm up. His mind wandered away from the situation at hand, and he concentrated on his mother. He struggled to picture her in his mind. Her eyes, which seemed to always have a spark to them, and the way just a touch of her hand could make him feel safe and relaxed. He wanted to see her; he wanted to be with her. He missed her. If he died now, he could be with her.

"Craig, now what kind of thinking is that?" Evelyn's voice echoed in his head. "You're smarter than the average kid, you know. You don't give yourself enough credit."

Craig tried to turn his head, to figure out where her voice was coming from, but he couldn't move at all.

"Now you listen to me, I'm going to tell you exactly how it's going to be." Evelyn's voice held that tone she used when she was going into heavy duty mother mode. "You are going to do whatever you need to get through tonight without being harmed any more than you already have been. Then you are going to do the same tomorrow, and the next day, and every day, until your brothers get to you. They will come for you."

Craig's mind cried out her. 'They're dead, they aren't coming.'

"No, son, they are coming, and when they find you, they will make everything better. Bobby is getting pretty good at taking care of you, isn't he?" Her voice seemed so close to him, and held warmth to it that he'd missed that past week.

'Considering its Bobby, I guess he hasn't done too bad,' Craig answered her in his mind.

"He found the men who shot me, didn't he?" Evelyn asked. "My boys will be fine once this is all over. But you have to be strong." She put emphasis on that last word. "You are a Mercer."

Craig was sure he felt her soft touch brush against his forehead. "Remember, I am always here with you. You have to stay strong." Her voice faded from his mind as the sound of a car engine drew his attention back to reality. He didn't want to leave that place in his mind that was safe and comforting, but his mother had said he had to be strong. He listened to the sound of a car door slamming shut.

"What the hell is he doing out here? You're trying to freeze him to death?" The sound of Adam Macks' voice hadn't changed in all the years that had passed since Craig had heard it.

"He's fine. As you can see, he's breathing." Man number three spoke in a pleasant tone.

"Good, I'll get him in the car and we'll be leaving." Macks spoke quickly.

"I don't think so. We need to have a little discussion as to why we have ended up in this situation." Man number three still sounded pleasant. "As I recall, you were supposed to be getting this boy back in a courtroom. Instead, I had to snatch him up and drag him into my place of business."

"I never asked you to grab him like that. That was your own idea." Macks countered.

"I had no choice. I had to try to rid myself of the trouble you brought down on me." Man number three was moving closer to Craig.

"I had nothing to do with what the Mercers did. You know that Vic'." Macks yelled.

"I told my men to hire out of town shooters. Out of town shooters, there was a reason for that. You changed my orders, and brought in home boys, from our own streets." Victor Sweet was standing over the boy now. Craig could feel the man hovering there, like a vulture.

"I brought in two good men, for less money. I saved you some cash there brother." Macks countered.

"Funny thing about that is I never seen my change." Sweet laughed. "Out of town shooters can't be tracked down because they leave town you imbecile. Then, after the smoke clears, you go after the kid in court, with my lawyers, and my judge, and get your kid back. That was the deal. You wanted your precious commodity back in your slimy hand."

"I'm his father. He belongs to me." Adam Macks seemed to understand he had a serious problem at that moment. "What are you up to?"

"Adam, I have to pay my men when they do a job for me. I have had to exceed my budget for this project, and I believe I need to be reimbursed for my money and my time." Sweet reached down and grabbed Craig's arm, jerking him up hard off the mattress, dragging him away from the padding, and holding him on his feet next to him. "How am I going to do that?"

There was a long silence.

"Come on, Adam, you have fifty grand you can throw my way, don't you? Isn't your property worth that much?" Sweet gave Craig a hard jerk, pulling him back into his chest. He released his arm, but the hand came up to Craig's throat, holding it tightly, barely allowing air to pass. The boy could barely keep his bound legs steady on the cold dirt beneath his feet. "Look, I put him in nice threads for you. Nice and loose fitting, isn't that how you wanted him packaged?"

"I don't have that kind of money, you know that Vic'." Macks' sounded angry.

"Then I suppose the boy stays with me until I get my fucking money!" Sweet yelled the words loud, his voice sounding in Craig's left ear, causing it to ring loudly. "In the meantime, I will take a down payment." Sweet gave Craig a hard shove forward, letting him land hard on the mattress again. "I will take one piece of this kid each day, until you have the money in my hands." He grabbed the tape holding Craig's feet and lifted it, raising his feet off of the mattress. "One toe," He spoke loudly. "Bring me the bolt cutters."

Craig heard movement behind him, and then the feel of the cold circular blade encasing his little toe on his left foot. He tried to pull away as panic filled him. He would have been screaming if he'd been able to.

"You son of a bitch, I ain't got the fucking money!" Macks yelled. "You start cutting pieces of him off and he'll be worthless!"

The cut was swift, and surprisingly to Craig it didn't hurt. He felt the blood pouring out, and he knew the toe was gone, but he felt no pain at all.

"Stop that bleeding." Sweet spoke to someone as he dropped the boy's feet and walked away. "Same time tomorrow night, I take another toe." He was speaking to Adam Macks now. "I will keep taking pieces of him until either he has been cut to tiny bits or you pay me my money."

"I told you I do not have that kind of money!" Adam yelled.

"Then I suggest you find it. You done came into my territory, screwed up the working of my operation, and you think I'm going to hand this boy over to you free and clear?" Sweet sounded almost cheerful again. "Now get the fuck off my property."

Craig felt some one moving his foot, and moments later the smell of burning flesh filled the air, as his foot seemed to turn into a ball of flames at the end of his leg.

"Sorry kid, I had to cauterize it, to get it to stop bleeding." Man number one spoke quietly. "It's going to be fine. He just took the tip, not the whole toe."

The car door slammed again, and then the engine started. The tires squealed as the engine was gunned and the car pulled away quickly.

Craig felt his foot being bandaged, while he listened to footsteps pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Hell, that's gonna really hurt once that shot wears off." Sweet spoke from above him after a long while. "The next time I tell you to do something, think about this little punishment. The next time I'll take the whole toe, or finger." Sweet leaned down close to him. "The next you try to pull away from me while I am dishing out your punishment, I'll make sure you feel the fucking pain."

There was a long silence, and when Sweet spoke again he wasn't as close. "Get him cleaned up, he looks like shit. Bring him to me in fifteen minutes. It's time I find out if his daddy was lyin' about him."

Craig felt himself go weak inside as he was grabbed by his arms and lifted up. He wasn't laid over a shoulder this time; he was carried by arms wrapped around his waist. He knew what was about to happen and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

* * *

Bobby walked through the house, looking at each room, finding himself lost in his own memories of growing up with all of the different objects surrounding him, and wondering how some of the precious items would ever be replaced. The poster his mother had hung on the living room wall the first year he'd been her son was still mostly in one piece, but it had bullet holes in one corner. It would never be the same. He inspected the record player. He had told Angel the night before that they would fix it, but there was nothing they could do for it, he knew that.

His brothers were still upstairs, sleeping, he hoped. He 'd been awake most of the night, trying to think of what to do next, but his mind seemed to be numb, and wouldn't think. He knew Angel had contacts that could give him information. He was sure that they could probably corner Evander and get some information from him if they tried. He just couldn't come up with a real plan, or even the start of a plan that he could play with as he went along. Craig's life was on the line now, and he couldn't risk doing anything that would put the kid in anymore danger than he was already in. His heart constricted on him at the thought of the boy being somewhere out there, afraid. He'd been through enough and didn't deserve the fucking shit Victor Sweet had been dumping on their family in the recent months. First it was Jerry, who should have fucking said something from the start of his trouble. If he'd called, Bobby would have come, long before their mother felt she needed to be involved. He walked slowly on through to the dining room, and looked at the pictures hanging on the wall, and arranged on the cabinet lining the wall. They were littered with bullet holes. He sat down at the table and studied each one closely. There were pictures of them all together. School pictures, Jerry's wedding picture, Jerry's girls, and one of Camille and Jerry together. Their life as a family displayed in that room.

Movement in the living room drew his attention for a short moment. He turned to see both Angel and Jerry walking in. Jerry sat in the chair in front of the fire place. Angel turned the other chair to face the dining room and sat in it. Both looked tired, and were dressed warm because even with all of the plastic, the house was still pretty fucking cold.

Bobby turned back to the pictures, and found himself staring more at the photos of Jack and Craig than the others.

"We miss 'em too," Angel spoke quietly. "We'll get them back both back home soon, and send Ma some company." He referred to the killing they had in mind for the people responsible for tearing apart their family.

Jerry drew in a deep breath. "You can't go to war with Victor Sweet, not straight up. He'll just keep hiring more and more goons until we're all dead." He spoke seriously.

"I don't know, I don't know what to do anymore." Bobby admitted quietly. "I've nearly lost one brother, and another brother was stolen from me. You guys are all I got." He drew in a deep breath as tears built behind his eyes. "We gotta get him back. We can't just leave him with that son of a bitch. We need a plan."

There was silence for a long moment before Jerry spoke. "I got an idea." He sounded hopeful as he stood and walked into the dining room, closer to Bobby. Angel stood and followed.

"What?" Bobby glanced at Jerry.

"We'll take the rest of the money from Mom's insurance, pay Sweet to hand over Craig and call off the dogs." Jerry spoke quickly. "He'll deal, he's a business man."

Bobby sighed and stared at the pictures of Jack and Craig again. "It doesn't count as a plan if it takes you longer to say it than to think it up."

"Yeah, Jerry, Sweet will meet up with you, take your money, won't be able to find your body till the river thaws." Angel looked at Jerry.

"If you can get that far," Bobby thought about the idea though. The money would draw Sweet out, and possibly he would come out with Craig. He looked up at his brothers as his mind started working. Jerry's idea was close to what they needed, but he figured he could put his own twist to it, to make it work.


	32. Chapter 32

Again, thanks to all who have reviewed, this is my first story so I'm honored by all the kind words! I appreciate the advice as well, so keep it coming, please? Just a little note, I figure if Jack can live, then so can Green...

Legal stuff still counts...

* * *

**_Chapter 32: Plans Change_**

When Craig was taken back inside he was taken to a restroom first, and man number one had washed him and let him pee. Then he'd been taken back to the room where man number two had been shot, Craig knew that because could still smell the blood. He also knew he was being readied for Sweet as his hands were cuffed to the water pipes again, this time in front of him while he was on his knees. He'd felt Sweet's presence the whole time man number one secured him to the pipes, though no words had been spoken. Man number one walked out of the room, and the door was closed hard.

Craig's mind spent the night picturing different ways Victor Sweet could die. With every move the man made, the boy could see Bobby shooting the different parts of the man's body that came into contact with him. He could picture Bobby pouring gasoline on those areas of Sweet's body, and Jack tossing a lit cigarette. His mind incorporated everything possible that it could think of into his fantasies, from bolt cutters, like those that had been used on him, to an old fashion meat grinder with a hand crank that could be turned slowly, or quickly, depending on how loud the man screamed, and the whole purpose of that was to make him scream as loud as the boy wanted to at that point. He envisioned his mother's knitting needles being used in some very painful ways. Anything that he could think of to keep his mind busy, and not think about what was being done to him, Craig blocked most of it out with his visions of Victor Sweet being dealt with by his brothers.

The sound of his mother's voice echoing in his head, telling him he had to be strong helped him as well. She'd told him that his brothers were coming, and although he knew she was dead, and her voice was nothing more than his imagination, he wanted to believe that. He'd been certain when his Mom died, that his brothers would want to get rid of him, that they would turn him over to his father and be glad to be free of him. He'd been so sure Bobby would refuse to sign the papers for custody of him. He'd been wrong about all of that, and in fact he felt more a part of his brothers' family than he ever had before. He wanted to go home, and he wanted Bobby to make it all go away. He wanted to believe that his brothers really did love him enough to come for him, and that they hadn't been killed by Sweet's men.

He had no idea how much time had passed before Sweet left. The man didn't say a word to him he just got up and walked out, leaving the door open after him, or at least Craig hadn't heard it close. The boy felt exhausted, both mentally and physically. He was tired, and he was hungry and thirsty. The cut on his cheek hurt, and the toe was throbbing and burning. He felt so cold, but he didn't dare try to move to lie down on the floor. His arms would only catch on the pipe, holding him up off the floor and making it all hurt that much worse. Besides, he was terrified to move. What if Sweet came back and the fact that he'd moved made him angry? The man seemed to have to soul. He didn't care how badly he hurt people, so long as he felt as if he were the one in control.

After what seemed like hours of complete silence surrounding him, Craig felt his body swaying. He fought to stay upright, but it was a losing the battle. He grabbed the pipes with a weak, shaky grip, and let his butt down slowly to the carpet under him, easing the pressure on his knees. He leaned forward, into the cold pipes and tried to keep his breathing steady; though it was getting harder for him to do the longer the gag was in place. He shivered when his hot cheeks touched the cold pipes, and though he felt cold, he couldn't help but think that the cold metal felt good against his skin. He allowed his body to relax, and was close to drifting off to sleep when he heard movement from the direction of the door. He felt every muscle in his body tense up; sure that Sweet was back and would make him regret moving.

"Okay, kid. You must have done something right. He's gonna let you get some sleep in a real bed." Man number one spoke.

Craig felt hands slide in under his shoulders and lift him back up to his knees. The pants that had been pulled down were brought back up, and then the handcuffs were removed from his left wrist long enough to free him from the pipe, and pull his arms behind his back. Once the cuffs were biting into both of his wrists again the man grabbed him and lifted him up over his shoulder. Craig didn't pay any attention to where he was being carried this time. He didn't care, so long as Sweet wasn't waiting for them where ever they were going.

Minutes later he felt his body lower onto a mattress, on his stomach. This wasn't the same one from the night before. The room he was now in felt warm, and there was a pillow and what felt like blankets. The cuffs were removed completely this time. Craig felt the tape being removed from his ankles, and then he felt the tape being loosed from his mouth. Within minutes the gag was removed.

"I have some water for you, sit up." Man number one instructed. His voice wasn't harsh, and it didn't frighten the boy. He managed to sit his body up, slowly, though he felt unsteady.

Craig felt the top of a bottle touch his lips and opened his mouth, thankful for the water that was eased into his mouth. He was allowed to drink a good bit of the water this time, and then man number one dabbed some of it on his smarting cheek, cleaning away some of the blood that had run after the first cleaning. Craig felt a hand push him back down into the bed, then what felt like an adhesive bandage was placed on his cheek.

"I'm going to wash your foot, and bandage that toe. You keep still, and don't make a sound." Man number one warned.

Craig gritted his teeth as the man worked. He didn't think he could remember anything ever hurting as bad as that missing toe. Once that bandage was in place, man number one started rubbing cold water on his wrists, where the cuffs had been biting into his skin. "I'm not gonna put the cuffs back on you, but I gotta tie you down good, the Boss' orders. I got some rags, and I'm gonna tie your hand to the headboard."

Craig didn't resist, he had no choice, he knew, and anything would be better than the cuffs. Once his arms were secured to the headboard above his head, he felt the pants being pulled down a few inches, and his body was tilted slightly to his right. The needle was stabbed into his butt cheek, and the all too familiar drug was pumped into him quickly.

"You're gonna sleep now. You should be out for about four hours. When you wake up, the boss wants you back on the pipes. So enjoy this while you can." Man number one pulled the blankets up over Craig's shivering body, and then walked away. Craig thought he heard the click of a light switch before the door was closed followed by the sound of a lock turning, which seemed very loud to him. His mind started to drift into a blessed state of oblivion.

* * *

Bobby held the phone against his ear, listening to Sofi relaying to him what Jack's doctor had told her. There was no change. Jack was still sleeping. His vital signs were good, and everything looked fine. "You tell him we'll be by later to say hey." Bobby told her, and then handed the phone to Angel, who had been following him around from the moment he'd answered in and announced it was Sofi.

They had been working on their plan since Jerry mentioned the insurance money that morning. His brother had had the start of a good idea, but a lot depended on what Jerry could accomplish with Evander, who was now known as Evan. Bobby had faith in Jerry's negotiating abilities, and Jerry had been certain it wouldn't take much to get his old friend to take the deal they were offering and head straight to Victor Sweet.

Bobby had then made the hardest phone call of his life. He'd called Green and told him what they were planning. He hadn't wanted to, but they were going to need his help if they were going to make their plan work. Green hadn't been too happy with them, but he seemed to know that they weren't going to let Sweet go and they were going to get Craig back, no matter what it took. Green had told Bobby that he would do what he could, but he could only do so much.

It was a big step for Bobby to include Green, he didn't trust cops; he'd seen enough crooked cops to know better. He tried to convince himself he didn't trust Green the cop, he was putting his trust in Green his old hockey buddy.

While Angel spoke with Sofi on the phone, Bobby went upstairs to use the restroom. He stopped at Craig's bedroom door before he went back downstairs and looked in at the room. He thought that when they found the youngest Mercer, he might need some things. He moved to the dresser and started going through the drawers to gather up clean socks, and warm shirts. He knew Craig hadn't had his coat on the morning before when he'd left the house, and he wasn't sure what kind of clothes he'd been wearing either. He had a nagging feeling that he hadn't been paying enough attention to the kid that morning; he'd been too busy fuming about Jerry. Craig had told him he didn't want to go to school, he'd told him he wasn't ready, and Bobby hadn't listened to him. He'd wanted Craig out of the house before the confrontation with Jerry. He should have let the kid stay home, told him to go to his room and stay there. If he'd listened to Craig, the boy would have been right there with them now.

Bobby was grabbing clothes and tossing them onto the bed while the thoughts of how different the situation could have been ran through his mind.

"What the fuck you doin'?" Angel's voice brought the man out of his thoughts.

Bobby turned and looked at Angel. "What? He's gonna need some things when we get to him. He's not wearing warm clothes, and he didn't have his coat on."

Angel looked at the pile of cloths Bobby had gathered onto the bed. "You really think he's gonna need three pairs of socks?" He asked quietly.

Bobby looked down at the clothes before speaking,"Well you never know, his feet might be cold." He countered quietly, not wanting to admit that he hadn't realized he'd removed so many items from the dresser drawers.

"Two pairs of long johns Bobby?" Angel walked over to the bed and picked up the three pairs of sweat pants resting next to the long johns before looking at his brother questioningly.

"Okay, I wasn't thinking, alright?" Bobby sighed. "I can't get this sick feeling out of my gut Angel." He spoke the words quietly. "I don't know what it is, but I can't get it out of my gut."

Angel nodded his head. "Yeah, me too," He admitted. "Look, let's get a bag together to put in the car. It's not a bad idea, having it just in case." He started going through the clothing, picking out a more appropriate number of garments, and folding them neatly. "Jerry hasn't called yet." He commented once he had a stack of clothes separated from the pile Bobby had accumulated on the bed.

"He'll be fine. He trusts Evander. Evan." Bobby corrected himself absentmindedly. "He never said he'd call." He added. "He'll be home soon." He started putting the rest of the clothes back in the dresser. "When he get's here we can all go see Jack."

Angel looked around the bedroom. "Man, this room is small." He shook his head.

Bobby pushed the last dresser drawer closed. "Well, Sweet made sure we was gonna be doin' some renovations, why don't we include a big back porch with that and move your room out, we can move this wall over that way and give you and Craig both more room. You're gonna need it with Sofi bein' here." He pointed to the wall that met up to Angel's room.

Angel didn't comment, he just looked around the room. "That kid never had any toys, did he?" He asked quietly. "No stuffed animals, no trucks, or cars."

"Just that damn book of paper." Bobby laughed. "Why?"

"I just thought that, well, you know when you're little you carry around a stuffed animal or, somethin', like a security blanket. I was gonna grab something like that, something that might make him feel better to hold onto." He spoke with some hesitation.

Bobby stared at him. "I think he had something when he was little." He shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, he had toys when he was small, right?" Bobby looked around. "The only thing I can remember was him carrying around a book of paper all of the time."

"Well there's nothin' in here," Angel sighed. "Maybe there was something Mom saved from when he was little?"

Bobby nodded his head. "I'll look in her room." He headed for the door.

"Or the attic," Angel followed, carrying the clothes in his arms.

Bobby looked in his mother's closet, but could find nothing. He checked in some of her drawers, but still nothing. Angel watched him for a few minutes. "Maybe we should just take the book." He suggested when Bobby started to head towards the hall, to the attic door.

"No, there was something he had when he was little, I just can't remember what it was." Bobby pulled the cord attached to the attic door and it swung down. He pulled the steps down to the floor and headed up quickly. He spent ten minutes looking through boxes. He found items from when he was younger, and some boxes marked with Jerry, Angel and Jack's names, but nothing for Craig. He was getting frustrated. What would his mother have done with Craig's?

When he climbed back down from the attic Angel was no longer waiting in the hall. He pushed the steps back up and gave the door a push so that the spring hinges would pull it back into place.

"Bobby," Angel spoke loud from Craig's room

Bobby walked back to the small room to find Angel sitting on the floor, pulling a box out from under the bed. "What made you think to look there?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well, anytime I clean my room, I shove all sorts of shit under the bed." Angel glanced up at Bobby with a big grin, "I got to thinking, he ain't moved out of the house man, and Ma never would have boxed his stuff up to put it in the attic." He went back to his task of checking for more boxes under the bed and pulled out a shoe box.

Bobby sat on the floor and started opening the first box. He looked at the old shoes Angel slid into view and was baffled. "Why in the hell would he keep old shoes?" He laughed.

"Who knows," Angel shrugged his shoulders. "He's a kid." He joined Bobby in rummaging through the box. "Baseball cards," He muttered. "Some toy cars. Thank god, I was beginning to think the kid had never played with toys." He sounded relieved.

"Jerry got him those." Bobby reached down and picked up one of the cars. "They were for his birthday one year, and I'm sorry to say, they don't look like they've been played with." He dropped the car back into the box. "Jack got him this." He picked up a music C.D. "It's not even open, but he saved it." He spoke quietly.

"Yeah, well, why would he open it when he don't have nothing to play it with?" Angle laughed and motioned around the room.

"Jack has a player in his room, he could have used that." Bobby picked up a small red colored rubber ball and then a couple of small green army men. "That's it?" He shook his head. He looked at Angel.

Angel shook his head and sighed. "Guess he only saved what he really wanted to." He looked at the army men. "Hell, those were mine when I was a kid." He pointed to them. "I wonder where he got those." He reached out and took them from Bobby. "Look, I carved my initials into the base of each one so you couldn't steal them." He turned one upside down and held it up for Bobby to see.

Bobby picked up the shoe box and studied the shoes. As he examined the holes where toes obviously had stuck through after a lot of wear, he started to recognized them. "Oh shit." He ran a finger down the edge of one of the soles sticking out of the box. "I gave these to him." He realized.

"You did?" Angel looked surprised.

"Yeah, when his adoption of finalized." Bobby's voice turned serious. "We really fucked up with him, you know that?"

"What do you mean?" Angel looked confused.

"You remember having cake and ice cream when his adoption was official?" Bobby looked at his brother.

"No," Angel admitted. "I remember Ma giving us a good 'what for' because none of us showed up for it though."

"Yeah, I got him these just after that. Ma said he was really hurt, and I felt bad about that. I mean, the one big thing in this house was always the cake and ice cream, and presents, when an adoption finally came through." Bobby looked back down to the shoes. "We didn't do that for him. He thought we never wanted him."

"I guess that explains why he had that fucking idea rolling around in head 'bout him going somewhere after Ma died." Angel commented.

Bobby dropped the ball back into the box. "Let's get the fucking book." He waited for Angel to drop the army men back into the box before pushing it back under the bed. He stood and placed the shoes on top of the dresser, while Angel lifted the mattress of the bed, searching for the sketch pad. Once it was located Angel picked the clothes back up and walked out of the room.

Bobby looked at the bed for a long moment. Before following Angel he moved over to it and quickly smoothed out the blankets, making them look as close to perfect as he could. He'd never been one much for being neat, but he wanted the room to be in the same condition as it had been when Craig left it.

When Bobby reached the bottom of the stairs Jerry was coming through the door. Angel carefully placed Craig's clothes and sketch pad on the coffee table, then turned came back into the foyer where Bobby and Jerry had met.

"Yo," Bobby spoke to Jerry.

Jerry nodded his head, looking hopeful, "Evan called Sweet." He announced. "He's going for it."

"So when's the meet?" Bobby asked.

"Four o'clock." Jerry answered.

Bobby looked surprised. "Today?" He cried out.

"Yeah," Jerry nodded his head.

"That's in three hours." Angel shook his head, a scowl spread across his face.

"Well we ain't got no choice, Sweet's supposed to roll up on us any minute." Jerry informed. "Look, he's gonna bring Craig just like we asked, and the sooner we can get to him the better."

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked quickly.

"Well, Evan, we cool, and he let me in on a few little things." Jerry spoke quietly.

"What? What else?" Bobby wanted to know about Craig, he could see in Jerry's eyes that there was something about Craig.

"Sweet has the kid at one of his abandoned warehouses, but he doesn't know where the place is. He's been in touch with the guy out there watching Craig. We just need to get him, today." Jerry spoke carefully. "But, if Fowler's there, he don't think he's gonna go for it."

"So there's no plan." Bobby felt as if his guts would wrench at any minute. Green wouldn't have time to do what he needed to do to keep Fowler out of the picture, not in three hours. He turned and started to walk into the living room.

"Yes there is Bobby." Angel spoke forcefully. "We need to take Fowler out before the meet, ourselves. Green will just have to back us up." He followed Bobby. "Sometimes plans change."

"We can't kill a cop, even if he is dirty, and you know Green will never go for that, he's lookin' at locking the guy up, not killing him." Jerry followed his brothers.

Bobby turned to look at Jerry. "He handed Ma to Sweet, okay? He ain't walking away from this."


	33. Chapter 33

Yep, it's getting close to the end, but not quite there yet :) Thanks to all who are reading and specail thanks to those that have been reviewing! I'll see what happens as far as a follow up after the movie ends. I can see a lot happening there...

Disclamer still counts, of course

**_Chapter 33: Plan in Motion_**

Bobby walked into the Intensive Care Unit and stopped. He looked around him at the large glass windows in the wall of each room, separating each patient's area, yet keeping them all in clear view of the main station in the center. He hadn't really paid much attention to the area the night before; he'd been concentrating on Jack. He now felt intimidated to a certain degree by his surroundings. He hated hospitals, he always had, and the seeing so many people fighting for their lives seemed to drive home the fact that Jack was still fighting for his own life. His gaze rested on Sofi sitting in a chair just outside of Jack's door. He looked through the glass at his brother and walked over to Sofi. "How is he doing?" He asked.

Sofi looked up from the magazine she'd been lflipping through. "He's the same." She spoke as she looked over in the direction of Jack's bed. "He's starts to come around from time to time but mostly he's just sleeping. They only let me go in once an hour for ten minutes, but when I'm in there I talk to him, and tell him everything that is going on. I think he understands." She looked up at Bobby. "Where is Angel?" She asked.

"He's with Jerry parking the car. They dropped me off at the door." Bobby turned to walk into Jack's room.

"Bobby, you have to check in at the desk." Sofi stood but didn't follow him.

"He's my brother; they ain't tellin' me when I can see him." Bobby muttered and walked into the room. He walked up to the bed, reached past the I.V. tube and took hold of Jack's hand. "Hey Jackie, how's it goin'." He gave the hand a squeeze. "You look, okay." He didn't sound so sure because seeing his brother with tubes running out of him didn't reinforce his belief that Jack would get through this. "You got that tube in so you can breathe easier. The doctor said that could come out in a few days." He was repeating what the doctor had said to him the night before, he knew that. "Sofi been keeping you company?" He asked. "Don't let that go to your head; you're still a little fairy. She's just keeping you busy so we can get this shit over with. We have a plan, and we're gonna be getting Craig back today. We're gonna need you to do a lot of prayin' for us Jack. That's your job right now. You do lots of prayin'." He studied the tubes that were running out of Jack's chest. He was sure the doctor had explained those to him the night before, he just couldn't quite remember. They were drainage tubes of some kind, that he could figure out on his own.

Jack's hand seemed to squeeze back weakly, drawing Bobby out of his thoughts, he glanced down at the hand and then back to Jack's face. "You know I love you little brother, and you are just as important to me as Craig, but we gotta get him safe. Once we know he's safe, I'm gonna be here right with you, we all are. That tube is gonna come out in a couple of days, and after that you are gonna heal up quick."

Jack's eyes fluttered slightly, and then cracked open. He looked at Bobby.

"Jerry and Angel are here too, they dropped me off at the door, so they'll be along any minute." Bobby smiled at Jack. "You're a fighter Jack, remember that."

The corners of Jack's lips turned up slightly, but only as far as the breathing tube secured with clear medical tape would let it.

"Sofi, you know you can't stop us." Angel's voice came from the door way, as if on cue.

Bobby turned to look at Jerry and Angel walking into the room, Sofi hangin back in the door, looking frustrated. "You are going to get us into trouble." Sofi spoke quietly.

"If they tell us to leave, we'll leave." Jerry laughed. "But if they don't notice us, then screw them." He turned to Bobby, and looked down at Jack. "Well, look at this, he's awake." He grinned.

Jack looked over at Jerry and winked.

"Hey there Jackie," Angel walked up to the other side of the bed. "You are looking good, considering." He patted Jack on the arm.

"We really can't stay very long." Bobby spoke up. "But we had to see you, make sure you knew we love you and we're here for you."

Jack nodded his head slightly.

"Listen, we may be out of touch for a day or so, but Sofi and Camille will be around." Bobby informed him. "You know the cops, and we're figuring that even with Green working with us, we'll be hauled in for some questioning."

Jack gave Bobby an inquisitive stare. He wanted to know what exactly his brothers' plans were.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "We're using the money from Ma's insurance." He went on to explain the whole plan to Jack. He explained that Jerry had already set things into motion with Evan, and what Angel had come up with for Fowler. "Hell Green is even working with us in a small role on this one." He laughed. "So, little brother, what do you think?"

Jack looked at Jerry, his eyes full of questions that he couldn't voice.

Jerry nodded his head. "I trust Evan, man, he's cool." He nodded his head. "The meeting has been set up and Sweet will be there."

Jack's eyes moved to Angel, the same questioning look boring into the man.

"Don't worry, Fowler's gonna burry himself man, all's we gotta do is give him a little push." The man smiled.

Jack looked up at Bobby.

"Sweet is mine, he's gonna pay for having Ma killed, for putting you in this hospital, and for stealing our little brother." Bobby's voice sounded cold. "You just remember, you know nothing about any of this. Because you know, the cops will come to question you. They won't give a fuck if you're lyin' in a hospital bed healing from having one of Victor Sweet's bullets pulled out of your lung." He spoke quietly. "When they come around, you never heard any of this from us. You got that?"

Jack nodded his head just enough to let Bobby know he understood.

Jerry looked at his watch. "I gotta get to the house and make sure Camille get's the girls to her mother." He spoke as quietly as Bobby. "She's gonna be here soon, so Sofi can do something for us." He looked at Jack. "Camille will be a mother hen while she's here, you gonna be able to handle that?" He smiled.

Jack shrugged his shoulders.

"We'll be back as soon as we can Jackie." Angel drew in a deep breath.

"Yeah, you got that right." Bobby gave Jack's hand a squeeze and then released his hold on it. "You get some more sleep. That doctor seems to think sleep is what you need. You won't feel that tube if you're sleeping. You let them know if you have any pain too, you got that? We gotta go."

Jack's hand reached out and grabbed hold of Bobby's before the man could move away from the bed.

"Don't worry Jackie, we're gonna get him back." Bobby could read the unspoken words in Jack's eyes.

Jack nodded his head and let go of Bobby's hand.

Bobby walked out the room quickly, not wanting to leave Jack, but not wanting to delay what needed to be done.

Jerry and Angel both said their goodbyes quickly and followed Bobby out of the room. All three stopped in the hall, looking back at Jack. Sofi followed them, and moved up to Angel to give him a quick kiss.

"You know what to do baby?" Angel asked Sofi quietly.

"I know what to do." Sofi smiled at him.

"You're a good actress, so shine for me." Angel smiled back.

"Come one, man we gotta get moving." Jerry spoke up.

Jerry dropped Angel off at the house, because the younger man would need to use Evelyn's car to go his separate way. From there he drove to his own home with Bobby, and helped Camille get the girls ready to go to their grandmother's and into their car seats. He said his goodbyes while Bobby watched from the walkway. Bobby couldn't help but envy his brother at that moment. Jerry had two wonderful daughters and a good wife. He had more to lose than any of them, and still he was in this with them all the way.

"Bobby," Camille called from the car, waving for Bobby to come over, once Jerry had kissed her goodbye and moved away.

Bobby was surprised Camille was calling to him. She had barely spoken to him since the funeral. He walked over to the car and leaned down so that she could say what she wanted.

"Look, I know I don't know you that well, but don't you let him get hurt. You bring him back to me." Her eyes seemed to be pleading with him.

Bobby's heart swelled. It was easy to see why Jerry loved the woman. "I will, Camille. It's gonna be okay." He promised before stepping back from the car to let Camille back out of the drive.

Bobby followed Jerry into the house, now they only needed to wait. Jerry occupied himself by checking the duffle bag full of cash, several times. Bobby paced the floor next to the stairway, holding Jerry's cell phone in his hands.

"Come on Angel, they're gonna be here any minute." Jerry muttered to himself mostly and walked over to look out the window.

"Just calm down, he'll call." Bobby spoke quietly, though his own nerves were wearing thin from the waiting.

"Shit." Jerry backed away from the window. "They're here." He spoke of the black SUV that was pulling into the drive.

Bobby walked over to the window and looked out just as Jerry walked towards the bag of cash. "Not 'till we hear from Angel." He told Jerry.

Jerry looked at his watch, and then checked it against the clock on the wall. He looked back at Bobby as the sound of the SUV's horn honking from the drive started sounding. "Man, they ain't gonna be patient."

Bobby shook his head and glanced back out the window before walking away from it. "Stall them. You ain't walking out of this house until we know Angel has Fowler and that part of the plan is goin' like it should."

Jerry walked over to the bag of money, then turned and walked towards the door. The sound of the horn outside rang out again, and now Evan's voice could be heard. Jerry looked out the window next to the door and could see Evan getting out of the car. "Jerry!" Evan called as he made his way up to the porch and knocked on the door. "Jerry!" He rang the doorbell.

"Fuck!" Jerry kept his voice quiet and looked at Bobby who was watching Evan through the curtain.

"We ain't going nowhere without the call, so just calm down." Bobby's voice held calm to it though he was feeling just as apprehensive as Jerry deep inside.

"What the fuck you…" Jerry started to speak to his older brother.

"Jerry!" Evan knocked on the door and rang the bell at the same time.

"Just keep stalling him." Bobby pushed. At that moment the phone in his hands vibrated. He looked at the name that came up on the screen and smiled at Jerry as he turned away, answering the phone as he stepped further into the room, away from the noise at the door. "Angel?" He asked.

"Hey, I got him." Angel answered.

Jerry was calling out to Evan. "Hold on, I'm grabbing my scarf man. I'll be there in a minute." He started pulling on his coat.

Bobby glanced back at Jerry, amused at his brother's attempt to stall. He turned away again and spoke to Angel on the phone. "Is he out of the way?"

"What, you wanna ask him?" Angel asked.

"Let me hear his voice." Bobby definitely wanted to hear the voice of the man who had turned his mother's life over to Sweet. He wanted to make sure the man knew he was in deep shit.

"Hold on, let me put him on. Hold on." Angel spoke, and Bobby could hear movement on the other end of the phone. "Hey man, say hello to my brother." Angel's voice sounded faint and the next thing Bobby could hear were the sounds of a man struggling, and gasping.

"We got you now, bitch." Bobby hung up the phone and turned and looked at Jerry. "Go." He told him.

"I'm coming." Jerry called out to Evan who was still persistently knocking on the door and ringing the bell. He zipped up his coat, walked over and picked up the bag, then headed for the door.

Bobby headed to the back of the house. He had Jerry's keys in his pocket so that he could head get to their little meeting spot separately. He stopped and looked through the house to watch his brother pick up the bag of money and walk out the front door, and then he grabbed his coat off the back of a kitchen chair and pulled it on before walking out the back door. He walked around to the gate at the fence next to the garage and listened while Evan and his buddies patted Jerry down before they climbed into the car and backed out of the drive. Bobby gave the vehicle enough time to get down the street then walked through the gate and then through the side door to Jerry's garage. He opened hit the button on the wall to open the garage, and got into the white Volvo. He started the engine, and opened up the cell phone, hitting the number carefully. He didn't own a cell phone himself, he hated the little numbers, and all the different menus tended to be a pain in the ass, but he needed to keep the chain of phone calls going. "Sofi," He spoke when Angel's girl answered on the other end. "Time to work your magic," He hung up, not wanting the call to be too long. He had to get moving. He backed the car out of the garage and closed the door with the remote attached to the sun visor.

* * *

Craig woke to his arms being pulled behind his back and the cuffs being clamped tight around his wrists again. He felt groggy and wasn't sure at first what was going on. It took his mind a few minutes to catch up to reality and remember what had happened to him just a few short hours ago. He started to tremble as man number one's words came back to him just before he'd been drugged to sleep. He didn't want Sweet touching him again; he wanted the nightmare he was living to end.

He could feel that his feet had been taped together again, and waited for man number one to say something to him, but no words were spoken. The movements were different though, and it occurred to him that this was not the same man who had been moving him, and taking care of him as before. This person wasn't as careful with how he grabbed his arms, and picked him up. He wasn't carried; this man held him around his waist and pulled him with his feet dragging the floor. He felt the carpet turn to wood, and then to carpet again. He was pushed down to the floor, and his this time his hands were kept behind his back while he was pushed down to rest his throat over the pipes. He cringed on the inside when he felt a belt encircle his neck, holding him fast to the pipe. The belt was pulled tight, making it hard for him to breathe. He almost wished the gag had been pushed back into his mouth instead of this.

"It's time to find out just how obedient you are going to be for me boy." Sweet's sickening voice filled the room, and Craig realized it had been his hands touching him and it had been him dragging him back to this room. "Do you know that I could end your life right now? I could put this gun in your mouth and pull the trigger."

Craig couldn't hold in the whimper that escaped him when the cold barrel of a gun was pushed into his mouth. He was going to die, he was sure of it.

"How does that feel in there?" Sweet's voice spoke into his right ear.

The gun barrel was moved around in his mouth in small circles.

"Now, you can either eat a bullet, or you can give me what I fucking want." Sweet's words were quiet and slow.

The gun was slowly slid out of the boy's mouth. He felt Sweet move to the floor directly in front of him. "It seems there's someone who is willing to pay some money for you."

Craig's mind instantly assumed his father had gotten some money.

"Now I have a choice to make. Either I hold you for your daddy, or I sell you for more money." Sweet laughed. "I don't like giving up things that I consider mine, and at this point in time, you are mine. On the other hand, I can profit from this little transaction. I can profit big."

Craig went weak inside. Someone else? He was going to be sold like he was nothing more than an object to be bartered for? Hands moved to each side of Craig's face, pressing hard, and pulling his face up, forcing his mouth to open.

"You need to be prepared for traveling. I think I'm going to dangle you out there, take the money, and still hold onto you." Sweet laughed as a rag was pushed into Craig's mouth and then the tape was applied as before. "What I want from you is complete obedience child. I am going to put you out there for the buyer to see. I want the buyer to get a good demonstration from you. You will give it me willingly, right there, for him to see. If you don't, that gun will go back into your mouth. You remember that. I'm your only hope of living through this."

Craig felt Sweet stand up in front of him and step over the pipes, to move behind him. "Now, I should make sure you are in the plastic, just as before. That would keep any of your DNA from ending up in my car. But I'm going to treat you like a real person and see if you can behave like a good little boy. You will ride next to me, and if you so much as twitch I will knock your teeth to the back of your throat."

The ringing of a cell phone interrupted Sweet's little speech. "Evan." He spoke after a second. "He's with you?" He asked. "He's got the money? Good. We're gonna be heading out shortly, so hurry the fuck up." He closed the phone loudly.

"Should I give him the shot?" It was man number one that spoke.

"Hell no, if he's fucks up and needs punished, he's gonna feel it this time." Sweet laughed. "Get those clothes off of him and put his own underwear on him, and then cover him with a blanket; we don't want anyone seeing him once he's in the car." He walked out of the room with heavy footsteps.

Man number one removed the belt holding Craig to the pipes and let him fall to the floor. Within minutes Craig was wearing only his underpants. Man number one stood him up and wrapped a blanket around him, covering his head. Craig felt himself being pulled up and over the shoulder again, and then they were moving. He felt the cold air biting at his body when they went outside, even through the blanket. He was stood on the cold ground, and then pushed into the back seat of a car. He felt man number one climb in after him as the door on the other side of the car opened.

"Put him on the floor until we get out of town." Sweet's voice spoke with irritation. "Fuck, am I the only one around here with any common sense?"

Craig was pushed down to the floor, and forced to lie down on his stomach across the hump in the center of the carpet. He felt Sweet's feet rest on his back, one of them purposely pressing down hard.

"Well, here we go. Let's see if this fool really showed up." Sweet laughed. "That would be just too good to be true."

Craig tried not to tremble under Sweet's feet. His mind screamed out for Bobby. He didn't understand why his brothers hadn't come for him if they were alive as his mother had told him. Then he reminded himself that his mother was dead, and what he'd heard in his head was only his imagination. His brothers were dead, and they weren't coming for him. His only hope of surviving any of this was to do what Victor Sweet told him, and do it well.


	34. Chapter 34

Let me know what you think :) and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Don't own and dont profit

**_Chapter 34: Ice_**

Bobby parked the Volvo on the frozen lake. His stomach soured at the thought of knowing all of that water was just a few feet below the car. He'd been out on the ice in the past, it didn't scare him for himself, but he knew that Sweet wanted to hold this little meeting with Jerry there for only one reason, and his instincts told him not to trust anyone in Sweet's circle until after it was all done and over. That included Evan, despite the fact that Jerry had all the faith in the world in his old friend. Bobby had been burned too many times, especially recently, to trust too many people. They needed to rid themselves of Sweet permanently, and get Craig home where he was safe.

He had arrived before Jerry and Evan and his boys, and had watched the group of men already at the sight get a fire going in the fifty gallon drum to stay warm. He had also watched as they started cutting blocks of ice out of the lake, creating a hole at least six feet long and four feet wide. They were still working on that hole when the SUV carrying Jerry pulled up and Evan and his buddies all drifted out of the vehicle casually. Jerry was with them, still in one piece. Jerry wasn't really much for this kind of action, he never had been, and Bobby could tell by his stride that he was feeling some hesitation. There were probably only two things keeping him going at that moment; knowing that his older brother was close, and having faith in Evan's word. As much as he trusted Evan though, it seemed he didn't trust Evan's associates. Bobby drew in an anxious breath. Now they just had to wait for Sweet, and Craig. The man had best have his youngest brother with him. He would make him regret it if he didn't.

Bobby kept his concentration on the endless stretch of ice and snow, looking for any sign of a vehicle heading their way. Sweet should have been there by now. He should have been arriving with enthusiasm at the thought of a four hundred thousand dollar pay off. He was greedy, and too full of himself to believe that this meeting could do anything except benefit him. The stupid fucker thought he was going to be given a free hand at sucking the life out of every last member of the Mercer family, and he was about to have a rude awakening.

Every nerve in Bobby's body started to tingle, for no apparent reason. He focused harder on the ice, and could see a dark spot on the horizon. The spot slowly grew, taking on the form of another SUV heading their way. Bobby leaned forward in the seat of the Volvo. He squinted into the bright snow, fighting off the effects of so much white stretching against the cloudy sky. The wind seemed to pick up a bit, as if it were a sign. "Come on you fucker, show me my brother." He muttered as the vehicle pulled to a stop. "Show me my brother."

* * *

Craig's body was starting to stiffen up on him by the time he was pulled back up onto the seat. He was left covered by the blanket. He could tell by the feel of the tires that they weren't on the city streets. The ride felt wrong.

His stomach was starting to ache from the stomp he had taken the night before courtesy of the sick bastard Sweet had killed. His cheek hurt from the strike Sweet had laid on him, but his missing toe hurt worse. It was a strange sensation, knowing the toe wasn't there, but having it hurt like hell. Shooting pains that ran all the way up his leg. He had to admit as well that he found sitting painful, thanks to Sweet's idea of fun. He felt weak, and shivery, though he was no longer cold. In fact he was starting to feel too warm. He felt sweat beading on his forehead and soaking into the blanket covering him.

"Cut the tape off of his feet. We're getting close." Sweet spoke the words gruffly.

Craig felt man number one reach down to his feet and cut the tape away from his ankles.

"So, boy, what you think of being bought like some sort of animal?" Sweet asked the question with a cynical sound to his voice. "You want to be some one's piece of shit the rest of your life?" He laughed. "You are gonna grow up some day, and then you won't be worth shit to no one." He reached out and wrapped an arm around the boy, pulling him closer to him.

Craig tensed up at the man's touch, wanted to pull away, but not having the nerve to. "Do you think your brothers really care what the fuck happens to you?" Sweet asked the question with no warning. "If they cared, wouldn't they have done something to get you out of this before now?"

Craig held his breath. The man's words told him what he needed to know. His brothers were alive. They weren't dead. He felt relief for a moment, until he wondered why they hadn't come for him. Why had they left him with Sweet? His mind started spinning in the blackness he'd been trapped in for God only knew how long. His brothers had said they loved him, and wanted him, but they weren't dead, and they hadn't come for him. If they loved him, wouldn't they have come after him? He felt the same insecurities that he'd been conquering over the past few days rushing back into his mind like flood waters, and it was with such intensity that he couldn't stop it. He couldn't reason with his own emotions. He couldn't talk himself into believing that there had been a reason behind them leaving him with Sweet for so long. Why would they do that if they didn't want to be rid of him?

The words he'd imagined his mother speaking to him had been nothing more than his own mind wishing for something that would never happen. He'd spent three days hoping and wanting something so bad that he had let himself believe he could actually have it. He'd forgotten that he had never been a real brother to any of the Mercer's. The only member of that family that had ever cared about him was Evelyn and she was gone. His brothers had never wanted him; they had never included him before. They had just used him to try to get the information they wanted about the shooting, and he'd broken down and told them everything, even about his dad, thinking that they were finally including him and letting him be their brother. They had left him with Victor Sweet. They had left him with the man, and let him do all of the things to him that they'd swore no one would ever do to him again. They'd lied to him, they'd let it happen.

If he'd been thinking straight maybe he wouldn't have felt all of those things, but he wasn't thinking straight. He was hurt, and scared, and had spent an unknown number of hours or days thinking that his brothers were dead, and that he was going to die. He'd been hit, and kicked, and stomped on. He'd been pumped full of a drug that he could still feel running through his blood. His toe was gone. He was being torn apart inside and out, literally, and he couldn't control how his mind perceived it all at that moment. Why hadn't his brothers tried to help him? The only thing that made sense was that they never really wanted him in the first place. It seemed a thousand different thoughts bombarded him at once, and it was too much for him to process. He felt his mind swimming in the confusion and then drowning in it.

"What, did you think your brothers were gonna come and rescue you?" Sweet laughed as he draped an arm around the boy. "No one really cares about you except for me, and the only reason I care is because you are gonna make me some money. Hell, you're already a profit to me." He gave the boy a squeeze. "People don't care about someone like you. You should have learned that long ago. Didn't your daddy used to tell you that?"

Craig couldn't move, he could barely suck in air at that moment because his throat was constricting, trying to cry. He fought it down with all the strength he had, but that wasn't much.

"At least I'm honest with you about it." Sweet gave the boy a shake. "You know I won't lie to you. If I tell you something is going to happen, you know it's going to. I will never lie to you. I will keep you safe, but you have to show some loyalty to me. You have to do what I say, no matter what it is, even if you don't understand it." His voice was against his right cheek now, his hot breath penetrating the thin blanket over Craig's head.

"When we get here, you are going to stay with me, no matter what you hear. You are going to hear some things that are going to confuse you, but you are going to ignore every other voice but mine, and you will do whatever I tell you. Or you will lose more than a fucking toe." A finger flicked at his face through the blanket, stinging at the cut on his cheek.

Sweet pulled his arm away from the boy. "When we are done here, if you do what you are told like a good fuck, I'll have you taken back to your new home and let you have a shower and some real food. I'll even let my men take that tape off of your eyes so you can see where you're going to be living for a while. Maybe even let you watch some of my movies." He laughed. "They would be educational for you. You might learn something from them to incorporate into your new duties."

Craig shivered from the implications of Sweet's words.

"I have plans tonight, so you are going to be trusted to stay in your room and not try anything stupid. I'll check on you in the morning." Sweet spoke almost casually.

There was a long silence, and Craig tried to clear his head. He tried to tell himself his brothers wouldn't just leave him to something like this. They had to care about him, the time he'd been with them since Evelyn's death had been hard, and he'd felt scared with them, but they had held onto him, and hadn't let him push them away. They wouldn't do that if they didn't care, would they? Then his mind would return to all the old emotions that he'd been fighting down for so many years, and it all seemed to blank out the good things that had happened with his brothers recently. He could hear the argument taking on two very different voices in his mind. On the side of his brothers he could hear his mother, Evelyn, telling him that his brothers did love him and they were trying that very moment to get to him. On the other side he would hear Sweet's cold, sinister voice telling him that they weren't dead and hadn't even tried to get to him.

It went back and forth in his mind like that for a very long time, until Sweet's voice drew him back to a semi-reality. "Fool showed up. And they say there's no such thing as a free lunch."

Craig could feel the vehicle they were in slowing down and then finally coming to a stop. A cold chill ran through him. This was it; this was where he had to prove to Sweet that he would behave, and do what he told him, no matter what it was.

"All right," Sweet spoke seriously as he opened his car door. "Let's sink this dumb-ass and get out of here. I gotta candlelit date lined up with a hot piece of Puerto Rican pussy."

Craig felt Sweet's arm snake around his throat and neck and pull him across the seat, out into the freezing snow. He was pulled back into Sweet, held there by the choking hold. As he was pulled away from the car he could feel ice below his bare feet, and they slipped and slid, unable to actually walk. They felt weak and shaky, and within seconds of being out of the car they were tingling and starting to sting from the cold. If it hadn't been for the gag in his mouth his teeth would have been chattering as well. The rest of his body started shaking intensely.

When they came to a stop, Sweet pushed him down to his knees and then onto his stomach in the snow, right at the man's feet. There was a moment of silence before Sweet spoke. "Jeremiah Mercer." He stepped over Craig. "Businessman," He sounded cruel.

Craig wasn't sure of what he was hearing. He felt as if the air had been kicked out of him. Jerry?

"Give me that." Sweet spoke with authority.

"Give me my brother." Jerry's voice sounded faint to Craig, and he wasn't so sure it was even him. Sweet had said he was to listen only to him, and he was trying, but there was a new knot of emotion building up inside of him now. Sweet had said his brothers didn't care about him, but if that was true, then why would Jerry be there now? Was it Jerry or was he wanting it so bad that he was imagining it? The boy listened to the movement around him, trying to decipher the meaning of it. Sweet was now down on the ice, right next to him. He could feel the man's coat brushing up against his arms as he moved.

"Goddamn it, I like the way you do business." Sweet exclaimed after a few moments. "You're a reasonable man." Craig could hear the man moving something around again. "You should have let me in on your project. We could have been partners, could have been a sweet deal for both of us. Now it's just a sweet deal for me." Sweet's hand rested on the back of Craig's head.

"Come on man, we gonna do business or what?" It sounded like Jerry. Craig started to lift his head in the direction of the voice, but Sweet's hand pushed it back into the ice, hard.

"Get your fucking hands off of him!" Jerry spoke loud.

Sweet only pressed harder in response to the words. "Right," He waited a few seconds before easing his hand away for the boy and standing. "Right, right, down to business. What were the…" He sounded as if he were having trouble remembering what their business arrangement was; Craig could hear the sarcasm in his voice as he spoke. "What were the terms again?"

Craig was straining to hear the words over the wind that was howling around him, and the cold that seemed to be turning into ringing in his ears. "You give me four hundred grand, and I pardon you and your brothers, is that right? Forgive and forget, right?"

"That's right." Jerry's voice sounded even fainter than before. "But you forgot the most important part. You give me my baby brother."

Craig could only make out bits and pieces of the words going back and forth above him.

"My brothers said I was naive, that you would shoot me and just take the money, yeah." Jerry continued. Craig tried to lift his head again, to try to hear what Jerry was saying.

Sweet's laughter seemed to come through to the boy loud and clear, as the man pressed a boot down on his back, applying pressure to keep him still on the ice. "Damn, man, you hurt my feelings."

"Good." Jerry's voice seemed to have more force to it that time. "Because you don't know shit about hurt feelings, I just buried my Mama and we nearly had to bury one little brother. You stole my youngest brother, and I think that's payment enough, Vic." His tone held its own disdain. "You give me my brother."

The boot moved off of Craig, but he felt Sweet leaning over him. "You want to go with this loser kid?" He asked the words. "Tell me now."

Craig remembered the words Sweet had spoken in the car. He was gonna kill Jerry. He was going to kill him, and if Craig didn't do what he was supposed to, which was to deny his desire to go with his brother; he was going to die too. He suddenly understood the meanings of Sweet's threats to him. They were meant to scare him, and it had worked.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Craig could hear his mother's voice telling him it was going to be okay. His brothers were there for him. And although he still felt confused he knew that he wanted to go to Jerry. He wanted to feel Jerry, even if it meant he was going to die with him. He moved to pull away from Sweet, to slide himself as far away from the evil that emanated from his presence as he could being on his stomach with no way to actually propel his body in any direction."You little fuck." Sweet growled at him, grabbing him by his arms with both hands and propelling him forward across the ice. The ice burned at the boy's stomach and legs as the freezing cold was intensified by the movement, even through the blanket.

Craig felt hands grabbing hold of him, lifting him up from the ice. The blanket was pulled down from his head, and arms wrapped around him gently, but firmly. The boy sucked in some air and could smell Jerry's cologne, he'd worn the same brand for years and Craig would recognize it anywhere. A moment later the arms were moving him closer, and he felt himself being pulled into Jerry's coat, against the warmth of his body, the coat encasing him from the waist up. "Stand on the blanket, get your feet off the ice." Jerry whispered into Craig's ears, Craig obeyed, letting his feet find the blanket hanging down and wrapping them up in it.

"You been doin' a lot of thinking, boy." Sweet sounded more pissed than before.

"Yeah, my Mama raised me to be a thinking man." Jerry reached up with one hand while he spoke and started pulling the tape away from Craig's mouth carefully, but with as much speed as he could. "So me and my brothers, we came up with a whole new proposal." He sounded confident, and sure of himself, at least to Craig.

"A whole new proposal," Sweet was mocking Jerry; that was obvious even to the boy. "Is that right?" He laughed out loud.

Jerry pulled the gag out of Craig's mouth and then started easing away the tape covering his eyes. "Yes sir. Yes, sir," Jerry sounded happy, close to excited by what he was about to say. "You gonna like it too. Because it is a…" He let a slight chuckle escape his throat as he pulled the last of the tape away from Craig, and pulled the boy's face closer to his chest. "A 'sweet' deal." He held a hand over Craig's eyes and rubbed at them gently, preventing the boy from opening them.

Craig felt as if blood were rushing into the area around his eyes that had been taped closed for so long. He wanted to open them, to see where they were and what was going on, but he didn't pull away from Jerry, he let him rub the ciculation back into the area.

"Check it out," Jerry sounded so enthusiastic that Craig wanted to hear what he was going to say. "Instead of giving you the four hundred grand, we decided we'd give it to these mistreated workers you got standing behind you."

There was a long silence, and then Sweet's voice carried on a strong gust of wind. "Pistol," It was one single word, and Craig waited for the sound of gunshots, only to hear the wind blowing around him, and nothing else.

"Evan, I said pistol." Sweet sounded even more pissed off.

"No, bitch." The response seemed deafening and it was then that Craig's mind registered that they weren't going to die. He felt tears well up, stinging at his dry, scratchy eyes. Jerry stopped rubbing at his eyes, and Craig let them crack open slowly. There was no sun, but it seemed the world around him was blinding. It hurt his eyes to see. He squeezed them closed again, the tears seeping out. He turned his face directly into Jerry's shirt and felt his brother wrap the coat tighter around him.

"The one thing you forgot about me is this; I was in the union for a long time. I ain't never missed no meetings." Evan was still speaking.

Craig felt hand's taking hold of his arms from behind, and started to panic, until he realized someone was removing the cuffs from his wrists.

"He ain't lyin'." Jerry supported Evan's statement. "It's cold out here when you by yourself, ain't it?"

Craig's arms fell limp next to his body. He felt Jerry grab onto his left arm and pull it up to the warmth of his body, and copied the movement on his own with his right arm. He wrapped his arms around Jerry's waist and tried opening his eyes again. He wanted to see what Sweet looked like. He wanted to see what the man who had put him through hell looked like.

"So, what now," Sweet called out the words defiantly, "You gonna kill the hand that's been feeding you?" No one answered him, and he went on, "Over some stupid old lady?"

"You watch your motherfucking mouth!" Jerry's words rose in volume and distain.

"You dumb shits!" Sweet yelled. "I told Fowler and his pals all about this meeting!" Again there was no response."You kill me, you all go down, murder!" He was trying to sound as if he were still in control, Craig could hear it in his voice, but he wasn't in control. It seemed to the boy that Jerry was the one in control. That knowledge made it easier for the boy to turn his head and open his eyes a little more, letting in more of the white that surrounded him. It was solid white stretching out for ever, no buildings, no streets, no trees, just a never ending nothing.

Craig turned his head just enough to bring the group of men into view, and Sweet was easy to pick out. The man wore a thick fur coat, and a cream colored stocking hat. He watched as Sweet pulled his watch into view. "He's already late." He was still referring to Fowler.

"He ain't coming." Jerry informed the man, and that drew Sweet's attention to Jerry and Craig, and Craig felt the man's eyes boring holes through him.

Craig looked past Sweet, past the men that encircled him, out at the small form on the endless plane of white surrounding them. The form was growing, and taking a familiar shape. The stride, the swagger that seemed to come naturally with each step stabbed into the boy's brain... Bobby.


	35. Chapter 35

It's almost done! There are still a few more chapters left to go! Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews! :) The advice is always welcome and it does help!!

Legal stuff still counts...

* * *

**_Chapter 35: Fight_**

Bobby watched as Sweet and two other men exited the car that had just pulled up. He watched as a fourth body was pulled, not so gently from the rear passenger side door, by Sweet. His gut twisted when he realized it had to be Craig, covered with a large blanket, held by what looked like a choking hold around his throat by one of Sweet's arms. Sweet dragged the form along with him by that choking arm, not allowing him to get his footing on the ice. Bobby squinted against the blaring white surrounding him, trying to make out some details. It didn't look as if there were any shoes on the boy, but the blanket was dragging along on the ground, blocking any real view of any of Craig's body.

Sweet pushed the boy down onto the ice at his feet and then stepped past him, to jerk the duffle bag from Jerry and crouch down to examine the goods. The form lying on the ice under the blanket remained still, and that worried Bobby. Either the kid was too weak to fight off the man, or he had given up fighting him off and was actually listening to him and doing what he was told by the fucker. Either way, it wasn't good, Craig was a fighter he just didn't know it yet. He was fourteen, he shouldn't have to know it yet, that was what his mother was trying to accomplish with Craig, to let him have as normal a childhood as he could after the hell he'd been through with his father. Bobby understood that now. He understood because that part of him that felt parental towards the boy wanted the same things for him that Evelyn did. Victor Sweet had crushed all of that, but Craig should have been fighting this guy all the way, not doing what he was fucking told by him. There was something very wrong with the way this was looking to the eldest Mercer. He watched Sweet put his hand on Craig while he was still lying on the ice watched him hold him there and his gut twisted harder.

Sweet finally stood, still hovering over the blanket at his feet. Bobby waited for him to pull his brother up off the ice, and let Jerry have him. Jerry had to have him before he made any move to join them. Then Sweet lifted a foot and brought it down on the boy.

Bobby waited until he seen Craig on the ice under Sweet's foot before stuffing his gun into his belt and getting out of the car, he'd seen enough, the man touched his little brother too much. The white Volvo had served the purpose he'd intended. It was practically invisible on the snow covered ice of the lakebed. He adjusted his hat before taking his first steps towards his brothers. If Sweet hadn't removed his foot by the time he reached him, he would remove it for him.

He could barely make out the forms of the men gathered around the hole cut in the ice, but he would know his brothers from any distance, at any time, and he was watching them both closely, Jerry was just as important. It didn't appear Sweet's men were going to back down from their deal with Jerry, that meant Jerry was safe. He was more worried about Craig. As he drew closer he could see Craig being thrust across the ice towards Jerry and his blood boiled at the thought of anyone putting their hands on the boy. He didn't feel the cold stabbing at his face. He didn't bother to pull his coat around him, there was no need.

He kept his concentration on the image before him of Jerry pulling Craig into his coat. What he was doing with him he couldn't make out, but he seemed to be pulling something off of him. His mind tried to reason what it could be, a blindfold, or something tied around his mouth. He didn't really want to think about what it was because with each vision that went through his mind his temper was building. He was gonna kill the fucker who had put his family through a week's worth of hell. He was going to feel the life drain from his body and the cause of it was going to be his own two hands.

He hadn't heard anything from Angel or Sofi, but Fowler was a no-show, that told him that Angel's little plan had worked, at least so far. He started flexing his fingers as he drew closer, stretching his arms out to his side and rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles. He could hear Sweet's voice being carried to him in waves on the wind, but could barely make out any words. One of the men walked up to Jerry and Craig and Jerry let him reach under the blanket, under Jerry's coat, to do something with Craig, and moments later he watched Craig's arms drop into view from the covering of the blanket. The son of a bitch found tying kids up necessary, and that sickened Bobby.

He focused on Craig, who seemed to be looking directly at him now. The boy looked as white as the snow stretching out around him and for some odd reason he seemed very small at that moment, younger than fourteen. It looked as if Jerry were holding him up. He would check him out from head to toe; see what all Sweet had done to him before he rid Detroit of the bastard. Sweet was going to know with his dying breath that his biggest mistake was to mess with Bobby Mercer's family.

* * *

Craig let the image of Bobby surrounded by white burn into his memory. If it was the last memory he ever had that would be just fine with him. His oldest brother was there, and that was all that he cared about.

"Come on now, who's gonna do it, huh?" Sweet was turning to look as his own men, trying to intimidate them. "Which of you tough guys gonna do it?" He yelled as the men tightened their circle around him.

Jerry turned with Craig, towards Bobby who was getting closer.

"Who's gonna take on the champ?" Victor yelled, "You Charlie?" He was still trying to sound as if he were in control, still trying to sound daunting to his men. "Yeah, that's right." He spoke when no one seemed to be making a move on him. He sounded even more self-assured.

Jerry lifted Craig enough that his feet left the ground, and he carried him towards Bobby's approaching form. The boy didn't take his eyes off of his oldest brother, he couldn't. He was afraid that if he looked away he would disappear, that they would all disappear and he would be back in that room with the pipes, alone with Sweet.

"Is that who I think it is?" Sweet called out. "Is this what you all been waiting on?" He sounded amused.

Bobby met up with Jerry and Craig as Jerry set the boy's feet back down on the blanket next to fire drum. "You all right Jerry?" He asked as he pulled his gun out of his belt.

"Yeah, I'm straight." Jerry took the pistol from Bobby and reached around to slide it down into his own belt at his back.

"How 'bout you baby boy?" Bobby reached out and cupped Craig's chin in his hand, turning his face to get a full view. "Did that bastard do this to you?" He let his thumb brush against the cut on Craig's cheek.

Craig swallowed hard but didn't try to speak. His throat felt dry and raw. He wanted to grab onto Bobby and hide in him, but knew at that moment that he couldn't.

Bobby pulled Jerry's coat and the blanket away from Craig, taking a hold on his arm and turning him so that he could see what kind of condition he was in. He kept his hand cupped around the boy's chin, and used his other hand to rub at the bruise on his stomach, then turned him to look at his back. He showed no emotion as he pulled the blanket away from him, scanning on down his legs. "What the fuck did he do to you?" He voice came out tight as he looked down at Craig's feet, at the bandage stained with blood covering his toe. "Did he do anything else?"

Craig forced his head to shake from left to right. It was a lie, but he couldn't tell Bobby anything right then. Not at that moment.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and pulled his hands back, pulling off his coat. He draped it over Craig's shoulders, on top of the blanket, and wrapped it around him. Jerry wrapped Bobby's coat more secure around the boy. "You stay here, next to the fire." He told him.

"Oh shit." Someone in the group spoke up.

"Oh, Bobby Mercer, back in town," Sweet laughed out loud and Craig felt his muscles tense up and his breath catch hard in his chest. The sound of the man's voice sent a fear vibrating through his insides that he couldn't control. Bobby and Jerry were both right there; there was no need for him to be afraid. He'd been afraid of Sweet and everything the man had done to him, but he'd kept it under control while he had to in order to deal with the situation, now he didn't have to deal with it, Bobby was going to, and that terror was free to flood in and bite at every nerve in his body as he watched the man pulling off his coat. "You gonna be the one man?" Sweet was still talking with confidence, and sounding amused by the whole situation, dancing and stretching his arms, loosening up for a fight.

Bobby grabbed hold of the cross hanging from the chain around his neck and kissed it before dropping in under his shirt. The man watched the boy's reaction to Sweet's voice, and it only fueled the fire that was burning inside. He rested a hand on the back of Craig's head. "You're safe now Craig, calm down." His voice was quiet. "We got business to take care of. You stay by this fire and keep warm." He turned towards Sweet. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

"Bring it on, what you got?" Sweet yelled.

Craig stayed where Bobby and Jerry left him and watched as Bobby walked towards Sweet, the men opening a hole in their circle, and backing off enough to give the Mercer enough room. Bobby's black gloved fingers flexed and then formed fists as he stretched his own arms a couple of times.

"Watch his hands Bobby." Evan called out, as the men around them started to sound enthusiastic about what was taking place.

"You better say a prayer man." Sweet spoke loudly as he waved for Bobby to come closer to him challenging the man to continue.

Bobby moved closer, and the two men set to moving around each other, watching each other. Craig shivered from the cold, and wanted to curl up into a ball right then to warm up. He kept his gaze on Bobby.

"Kick his ass! Kick his ass!" Shouts started rising from the crowd. "Come on! Kick his ass! Come on that's it! Hit him hard Bobby!"

Bobby took a swing and Sweet ducked, coming back up to look at Bobby, laughing at his failed attempt. Bobby followed it up with a right hook, but Victor again dodged that, coming back with a left and nailing Bobby in the jaw, spinning him around. As Bobby turned back to face Sweet, the man came back with a right, again revolving him around. He lost his footing on the ice, catching himself with his hands as the momentum slid him towards Jerry. Jerry held his hands out to stop his brother's forward skim, but Bobby caught himself without needing the help and turned back towards Sweet.

"Get your ass up!" Victor yelled out.

"Get him!" Jerry yelled out to Bobby. "All right, you got him!"

Craig didn't want to watch, but couldn't pull his eyes away. Bobby had been hit, twice, and had yet to land a punch. What if all of this turned bad? What if Bobby ended up getting killed? The fear that had inundated him only a few moments before was building, and working into new fears as his confused mind processed the scene in front of him.

"Put that shit away man, come on." Sweet called to Bobby.

"Yeah, come on man!" Evan called out as the two men started circling each other again.

"Take him out boy!" An unknown voice called out of the crowd, the rest of the men clapping and cheering.

Bobby let off a jab and nailed Sweet square center in the face. Sweet stumble back a couple of steps, but didn't seem fazed. Bobby let off another punch, hitting Sweet in the mouth, sending him back into the crowd of men behind him.

"Get back! Get back! Get back!" Craig couldn't tell if it was Sweet yelling the words over the crowd or someone in the crowd yelling the words at Victor Sweet, he only knew that Bobby had gotten in a couple of punches.

Bobby moved to swing again, but Sweet blocked the punch and came back with a right to Bobby's gut, then a left followed by another right, sending Bobby back. Sweet didn't back down. "That's it!" He yelled and proceeded to knee Bobby in the balls, sending him down to the ice.

Craig felt his insides turning to ice at the look of pain that crossed Bobby's face. He watched at Victor dropped down, diving into Bobby with his hands around his throat. "It's over now Bobby!" He yelled as his hands took hold. Bobby was still fighting, and Sweet changed his hold, encasing Bobby's throat with his arm, flipping around behind him and they both rolled on the ground. "Goodnight man!" Sweet shouted. "That's it!" He looked up and leveled his gaze on Craig while he had Bobby pinned down, choking off his air. "That boy was one fine fuck." He spoke to Bobby in a quiet voice, keeping his gaze fixed on Craig.

Craig realized Sweet was looking at him, and felt the terror inside rise to his chest and he had to fight to breath. He couldn't hear what Sweet was saying, but it looked as if he were going to kill Bobby.

Bobby looked at Craig as he still struggled to free himself from Sweet's hold.

"I'll have a real good time with him later, once I'm done with you." Sweet laughed as he strengthened the squeeze around Bobby's throat.

"Elbow baby, elbow," Evan yelled out. "Turn it around man!"

The words being shouted around him sunk in as Bobby's rage surged. He pulled up his right elbow and brought it back down hard into Sweet, then again, the blow causing enough pain and force to free him from the man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Jerry yelled out.

Bobby barely had to look as he swung his elbow back a third time, this time up higher, making contact with Sweet's face.

Sweet rolled away, holding his nose as he did.

Bobby rolled to his feet while Sweet was still on his knees and came at him with a left. Sweet didn't have time to duck, and the punch he tried to come back with missed Bobby completely. Bobby didn't stop, bringing a right into the man's face again, sending him back down on the ground. "Get up bitch!" Bobby yelled at him. "Get up!"

Sweet pulled himself up to his feet, looking unsteady on the ice, making the mistake of leaving his back open to Bobby as he slid around, trying to get his footing. Bobby landed a punch to the man's back with all the force he could put into it. The impact sent Sweet right into Evan. "Motherfucker!" He called out, reaching back with his arms to the pain that seemed to have penetrated his whole body.

Craig felt some satisfaction at the pained expression that crossed the man's face, and the fear that was evident in his eyes. He wanted the man to feel the same as he had.

"Get your bitch ass back in there!" Evan turned the man and gave him a hard push back towards Bobby, who greeted him with a head butt to the face the second he was facing him. Bobby didn't give the man a chance to recover before sinking a knee deep into the man's gut, following that up with a left to his head.

"Get him back here!" A voice shouted out.

Bobby continued the blows, first a right, then a left, the blows were so hard Victor was thrown off his feet and sent through the air.

There was completed silence as Bobby stood looking down at the still form on the ice. Craig managed to suck in air, not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

Jerry walked up to stand next to Bobby as the rest of the men gathered around, looking at the man. It wasn't until Bobby spoke that the gravity of the fight sunk in for the boy. "Get him in the hole." Bobby nodded towards the hole in the ice. He looked up at Craig as the men picked Sweet's body up and gave it a swing. It was then that Craig realized Sweet was really dead. Bobby had hit on him hard enough to kill him.

Craig watched as Bobby and Jerry walked towards him. He felt tears run down his cheeks, and didn't care. He held his arms out to Bobby when the man reached him, and welcomed the warm arms that wrapped around him. He hung onto Bobby's neck and buried his face into his shirt.

"You're gonna be fine kid." Bobby reached an arm down to Craig's knees and lifted him up as he started walking away from the scene behind him. Jerry reached up and gave Craig a pat on the arm as he walked next to Bobby.

"What about the police?" Jerry asked.

"Police?" Bobby glanced over at Jerry. "Cops love the Mercers, Jerry." He sounded cynical. "Besides, that's what we got our buddy Green for, remember?"

Jerry nodded his head. "He can only do so much." He looked down at Craig.

"Craig will do fine." Bobby glanced down at the boy. "Let's get him to the car and into some warm clothes. Then we can explain to him what we need to do."

Craig held onto Bobby even tighter, not wanting to let go of him. He wanted to go home, take a hot shower and sleep for a few days. He looked to see where they were walking to, and could only see the snow and ice. As they continued walking the shape of Jerry's white Volvo started to take shape on the sea of ice and snow. Bobby opened the back door of the car and eased Craig inside. Jerry got in behind the wheel and started the engine. He set the heater on high and got back out. He moved to the back of the car while Bobby pulled his coat away from Craig and pulled into it himself. "You lay down."" He told the boy.

Craig rested back across the seat and let Bobby lift his left foot up. He stared at the ceiling of the car, concentrating on the light above him.

"What the fuck," Jerry came up to stand at Bobby's side, a paper bag in his hands.

Bobby was easing the bandage away from where Craig's toe was supposed to be. "He needs a hospital." He spoke quietly, glancing at the boy. "Call Green and let him know we'll meet him where we agreed." He looked back down to the injury. "What else did he do to you Craig?" He asked the question calmly.

Craig didn't look at Bobby. He didn't try to answer him. He couldn't tell his brothers what Sweet had done. What would they think about it happening again? Would they really think that it wasn't his fault this time? They told him before it wasn't him, it was the sick fucker who had touched him, but for it to happen again... even Craig had to wonder, was it him? Was it something he did, or the way he acted? He didn't understand, and he didn't think that his brothers would either. How could they if he didn't?

Jerry took his cell phone from Bobby and started making a call. He turned away from the car and started talking quietly.

"He hit you? He put that on your face?" Bobby drew Craig's attention away from Jerry. He still sounded calm. He waited for an answer, but when Craig didn't give one he went on. "What about that bruise on your chest and the one on your back?"

Craig returned his concentration to the light above him, trying to follow the lines in the casing, trying to ignore the questions. He wanted to forget about man number two, who had tried to get what Sweet had manager to. The man had stomped on him like he was a bug on the floor, and then had kicked him in the back. If he told Bobby about that man, he'd have to tell the rest of it. He was thankful when he noticed Jerry, just at the edge of his vision, turning back towards them, closing up the phone. He thought that maybe the questions would stop with Jerry returning to the car.

Bobby returned the bandage to the foot and took a pair of socks offered by Jerry who had been digging through the paper bag. Craig felt a warm sock being slipped over his foot carefully. Then Bobby lifted his right foot and put a sock on it.

"You know, you aren't gonna do that. You aren't gonna go off into your own little world, not this time." Bobby proceeded to slide Craig's underwear off, and then pushed a pair of long johns onto him. Next he put a pair of sweatpants on him. He reached in and took a hold of Craig's arms, sitting him up, leaving the blanket on the seat. He pushed a thermal shirt over his head and then let Craig push his arms into the sleeves. He did the same with an over sized sweat shirt. "What kind of shots were they giving you Craig?" He asked the question with no warning.

Craig shook his head slowly, not knowing the answer to the question. He felt a shiver run through his body, though he was starting to warm up. Jerry reached into the bag one more time to pull out a flannel shirt lined with quilting. He handed it to Bobby and watched the man push Craig's arms into it.

Bobby buttoned the shirt quickly; afterwards, he took a hold of Craig's right hand, pulling the sleeves back enough that he could look at the marks cut into the skin from the hand cuffs. "He kept you handcuffed?" He asked.

Again Craig didn't answer. He turned his head so that he didn't have to look at Bobby's eyes. He stared at the back of the front seat.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Okay, you don't want to talk right now, that's fine, for the moment. We gotta take you to Green. He's gonna take you to the hospital. The cops are gonna want to ask you some questions when they find out you're there. They know that you were taken by Sweet. When they start asking questions, I want you to pull the silent shit. You don't know nothin', you were never out here. Green is gonna say he found you dumped in some alley. You don't remember anything about how you got there. You don't remember any of the shit that's happened in the past thirty two hours." Bobby moved his attention to the boy's left wrist. "But once this is all over and we got you back home, you are gonna fucking talk to me."

Craig looked up at Bobby as the man's words seemed to sink in. "I don't want to go with Green." He spoke weakly.

Bobby's expression softened slightly. "I don't want you to. But we gotta be at the house to get the phone call sayin' they found you kid, or it won't look right. You need a hospital, and if we carry you into one it's gonna look even worse. It won't be long, I promise. Green is gonna call it in that he found you, and they'll send an ambulance. They'll call us and tell us they found you and we'll be there before you even know it." Bobby reached up and held Craig's face between his hands. "You gotta do this Craig. I know it's hard but you're a Mercer you can do this."

Craig nodded his head. His mind started working a little more clearly as he processed what was going to happen next. His brain seemed to start clicking with questions, and wanting know what all was going on. What had happened after he'd been stabbed with that needle and dragged to the van? He looked at Bobby as his mind reminded him that Jack had been lying on top of him only moments before he'd been grabbed, bleeding, and screaming. "Jack…" He started to speak.

"He's alive." Jerry spoke quickly. "He's gonna be okay, but it's gonna be a while before you can see him. He's gonna be in the hospital for a bit, and he's gonna need some time to heal."

"Angel?" Craig looked at Jerry, then back to Bobby.

"Angel's fine. He wanted to be here to beat the shit out of Sweet himself, but he had something else that he had to do to make this possible. Until after you have played your little silence game with the cops, we can't say anything else about that. Okay?" Bobby still had his hands at each side of Craig's face.

Craig nodded his head slightly.

"Green is gonna be there in less than an hour man, we gotta go." Jerry spoke quickly.

Bobby nodded his head, keeping his eyes on Craig. "That blanket came from Sweet?" He asked Craig as he pulled the blanket out from under him.

Craig nodded his head.

"I'd like to burn it right now, but it's actually a good thing. If it came from Sweet then they can't tie it to us, and they might be able to trace it back to him. You will need to keep it with you." Bobby wadded it up and laid it in Craig's lap. "Move over and let me in." He instructed while Jerry walked around to the driver's door.

Craig pulled away from the open door and let Bobby sit on the seat next to him. He waited long enough for Bobby to pull the door closed, then leaned into him and closed his eyes. He didn't want to go with Green; he wanted to stay with Bobby. He felt safe at that moment and he didn't want to give up that feeling. He knew that it would be lost the moment Bobby left him. He felt Bobby's arm move around him and his mind started drifting. The feel of the tires on the snow covered ice vibrated through the car with a slow rhythm that seemed to pull his mind further into sleep.

Jerry glanced back between the seats at Bobby and Craig. "He's going to sleep." He spoke.

Craig heard the words.

"Let him sleep. It will be easier to switch him over to Green if he's sleeping." Bobby's voice spoke just above the boy. Craig didn't like the sound of the words, but couldn't pull himself out of the sleep that was drawing him in.

"For us or him?" Jerry's voice sounded as if he were far away.

Craig didn't hear anything else. He felt the vibration of the car change after what seemed a long time, but his mind wouldn't let him come out of the first peaceful, real sleep he'd had since he'd had for what felt like days, but according to Bobby had only been thirty two hours.

Craig stirred when Bobby pulled him from the car. He didn't want to wake up, so he leaned into Bobby who was carrying him. He held onto Bobby's neck, and didn't let go when he felt his brother setting him down on something cold and hard.

"Craig, come on now, we explained this to you." Bobby spoke gently, trying to pry Craig's arms away from him. "I'm sorry baby, this is killing me too, but you need a doctor, and Green is the only way to get you to one." He whispered in the boy's ear.

Craig let go without opening his eyes. He rolled away from Bobby, curling up into a tight ball, and let himself cry.

Bobby moved away from the back side of the dumpster where he'd put the boy down on the blanket. He looked at Green as he walked up to him. "You keep him safe." His voice was choked as he spoke.

"I'll give you ten minutes and then I'll call it in. You boys get home and wait for the call." Green stood next to his own car. "I'll see you at the hospital."

"What's goin' on with Angel?" Jerry asked Green quickly.

"He's been arrested. Fowler's buddies on the force knew about this little meeting, I'm sure, so they'll push this as far as they can. They know this was part of that. They'll find Sweet soon enough and they'll have all of you boys in for questioning." Green looked at Bobby. "Get your asses home and let me get this boy to a hospital. Go." He motioned for them to get into Jerry's Volvo.

Craig looked over in time to see Jerry's car drive down the alley, carrying his brothers away. He looked up at Green who was walking towards him.

Green stooped down next to him. "You're okay Craig." He patted the boy on the arm. "I'll get them back to you as soon as I can." He nodded his head. "You just relax." Green didn't say anything else. He stayed next to Craig, and checked his watch every few minutes. "Okay," He finally spoke. "This is where I see a suspicious looking vehicle pull into the alley and stop here. They pull away before I can get to them to check them out, but they have dumped you here to get rid of you." He winked. "So, I ask you if you're okay. You don't answer, because you're in shock." He stood slowly. "So I go back to the car and radio in for an ambulance." He moved away, walking to his car. He sat in the driver's seat and started talking on the radio.

Craig turned away, looking up the alley in the direction Jerry's Volvo had headed a while before. He let his mind slip into a safe numbness, and tried to ignore the panic that had settled into his stomach. He didn't want to go to a hospital, he wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his brothers, and feel safe. His body hurt, and he was sure that if he could have a hot shower and some food that he would be fine. He heard Green coming back towards him, talking, but he didn't hear the words. They sounded garbled to his ears. He felt his body shivering and hugged himself tightly, though he didn't' seem to feel the cold right then.

It seemed almost immediately there were red lights flashing around him, and people were approaching him wearing uniforms and carrying bags. He seen police cruisers pulling up one end of the alley, and Green was talking to some officers, but staying close. Craig wanted to get up and run home. He felt his body being lifted onto something softer than the blanket on the ground. Then his shirts were being pulled off of him, and his initial reaction was to fight off the people trying to remove his clothes. Hands held him down and he cried out for Bobby.

Green was there instantly. "Craig, it's okay, I'm gonna call Bobby myself and let him know we found you, okay?" He spoke to the boy. "You gotta let the paramedics do their job kiddo." His words seemed to calm Craig, barely. He still felt panic trying to take control, but he stopped fighting.

"I want Bobby." He started sobbing.

"I know you want your brothers Craig. It's okay. We're gonna get you to the hospital, and Bobby will come there." Green spoke carefully.

Craig nodded his head, letting Green know that he understood. He did understand, but it didn't ease the fears struggling to take control.

Green rested a hand on the boy's forehead while the medics pulled a blanket up over the boy and proceeded to strap him down across his stomach and legs. He felt his body moving towards the back of the ambulance. It all seemed surreal to him. He felt the gurney he was strapped to being lifted and then he felt heat wash over him. He looked down towards his feet at the door, where Green stood watching.

The medics were talking, but Craig couldn't hear what they were saying. The task of removing his shirts was resumed then, and he didn't struggle against it, though he couldn't help but feel as if they were violating his body is some way. He kept his gaze fixed on Green, the only familiar face in the mass of confusion that seemed to erupt with no warning. He was mentally begging Green to call Bobby. He wanted the safety of having his older brothers around him.

Green nodded his head to him, and pulled out his cell phone. Within moments Craig could hear Green's voice. "Jerry, this is Detective Green. Yeah, I have some news. We've located your missing brother." He spoke loud enough for Craig to hear him. "You need to get Bobby and bring him down to the emergency room. He's asking for him man." He kept his gaze on Craig for a long moment. "They're taking him now." He stepped back as the doors of the ambulance were closed, and the only person in sight to keep Craig calm disappeared from his view.


	36. Chapter 36

If you read Chapter 35 right afterI posted it you might want to go back to it. I realized this morning I missed part of it when I was loading it (oops).

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think :)

Legal stuff still counts...

**_Chapter 36: Things to Hate_**

Craig squeezed his eyes closed while the paramedics worked on him. They spoke to him, quietly, calmly, telling him he was going to be fine, but they needed to check him thoroughly. They checked his pulse and then took his blood pressure. He heard them talking on the radio, and the words didn't register. He was doing his best to fight down the unexplained panic that seemed to attack him in waves. He'd been fighting the same panic since he'd been pulled from Sweet's car out on the ice. He knew he had nothing to be afraid of, he knew his brothers needed him to do this without causing any problems, but he could feel himself losing the battle. The paramedics noticed the bruise on his chest and started poking around it, asking him if it hurt. Of course it hurt, it was bruised, but he couldn't find his voice to tell them that. He just stiffened against the pressure their poking and prodding was causing.

One of the medics noticed the blood dotting the sock Bobby had slid onto his foot. He removed the sock and then the bandage. "What happened to your foot?" He asked while his partner decided it was time to shine a light into Craig's eyes.

Craig squeezed his eyes closed against the bright light and turned his head away. "You have to let us check you out Craig." The man with the light commented. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like this, but it lets us know what we need to do to help you."

Craig shook his head slowly, not opening his eyes. "It hurts." He muttered.

"The light hurts your eyes?" The man gave him a gentle pat on his arm. "Okay, no more light." He promised. "Can you look at me though?"

Craig opened his eyes and looked at the man.

"Can you follow my finger?" The man held his finger up and moved it slowly from side to side in front of Craig's face. Craig did what the man asked, following the finger as best as it could, though is eyes kept loosing focus on it as it moved.

"Do you know what kind of drug you were given Craig?" The man asked as he pulled his finger away.

Craig shook his head slowly. "It made me sleep." He spoke as the memory of the needle stabbing into him ran through his mind.

"How many shots did they give you?" The question came after a moment.

"I don't know." Craig looked over to see the man preparing an I.V. needle. He didn't want anything else pumped into him. He felt the panic building again. "No needles." He muttered.

The man looked at him. "Look, you are dehydrated, and you have something in your system right now that is not letting you think too straight. This will just help to get some fluids to your body and flush out your system. That's all." He spoke calmly. "We have to give this to you. Either we do this the easy way or we strap you down all the way so we can do our job and help you feel better."

Craig felt tears falling. "No needles." He cried out loudly.

The man at his feet started cleaning blood oozing from the gap that had been burned closed where his toe was supposed to be. The solution burned, and the boy screamed out, trying to pull his foot away from him.

The men stopped what they were doing and each pulled more straps from the side of the gurney. One went down over his chest and across his shoulders; the other went down closer to his ankles.

Craig still tried to pull free, the thought of being tied down was sending his emotions into a spiral, and he couldn't stop himself from trying to break free. He tried to sit up, but the man seemed to sense it was coming and tightened the strap more snuggly. "Sorry kid, but it's for your own good." He spoke before both men returned to their separate tasks. Craig let himself cry, and tried to struggle for few more moments, but the attempts were futile. He felt the man at his feet continue cleaning his toe and the pain seemed to intensify.

The man to his left took a hold of his arm and started cleaning an area just above his wrist with a cold alcohol wipe. "Just relax; you're making it harder than it needs to be. No one is going to hurt you." The man told him while he traded the wipe for the needle. Craig squeezed his eyes closed as the needle was slowly slid into his vein. His tears turned to sobbing as the man taped the needle down. The air around him felt thin and he was breathing hard against the feeling of dread that was intensifying by the second.

Neither man said anything else as they continued to work. Craig was relieved when the man at his foot dressed his missing toe with a fresh bandage and stopped touching the painful injury. Several minutes later his breathing started to come easier and his muscles started to relax. He looked at the man next to him. "You gave me something." He spoke in a weak voice. "You lied to me." He thought back to the man's words about the I.V. only being fluids to flush out his system and hydrate him.

"No, I didn't lie. The I.V. will flush out your system, and you're going to feel much better once you have the fluids. I did have to give you something to help calm you though. It's not going to put you out, don't worry. It's just going to keep you calm."

Craig swallowed at his raw throat and closed his eyes. It wasn't until the vehicle he was in started moving that he realized they hadn't been on the road the whole time. He'd thought he was at least close to the hospital, closer to his brothers getting back to him, but they hadn't even been moving. He felt a shiver run through his body when he heard the sirens from the ambulance ring out loud. His ears ached from the noise. He couldn't hear the men talking around him now. They checked his blood pressure again. The man who had put the I.V. into his arm pulled his eyes open one at a time and forced the light into each. He'd told Craig he wouldn't do that, but now that the boy was unable to fight against him it seemed he found it convenient. Craig hated them both. He concentrated on hating them the whole ride to the emergency room. It blocked out the fear he was struggling with.

The rest of the ride was a blur to his brain. He barely comprehended being wheeled through doors and down a brightly lit hall. He felt the straps being removed, freeing him completely and then he was lifted onto another bed. Both medics were talking to doctors and nurses as they worked around him. One of the doctors finally leaned over the boy and proceeded to burn his eyes with another light. He was asking Craig questions, but the boy didn't really hear them, he was finding more people in his mind to hate at that moment. He hated the doctor quiet intensely at that moment, and the nurse that was moving his left arm around, taping a hard piece of plastic to it was quickly moving up his list of people he hated. He heard one of the medics' voices. "He's combative."

Craig tried to pull his face away from the light. Combative, yes he was, everything these people were doing to him hurt, and he was tired of hurting. The fear was turning to anger as his brain started clicking off a list of what he hated. He hated medics, needles, lights, doctors, nurses, hospitals. He would have kept going but the doctor was now examining his stomach and pushing around on the bruise. He cried out from the pain and tried to sit up.

Hands pushed him back down. "Okay, I need x-rays. I need some blood work done here," The doctor called out. He kept talking, saying something about adding something to Craig's I.V. Craig tried to pull his left arm towards him, but it wouldn't move. When he looked down at the arm, he found the board that it had been taped to it had been strapped to the railing of the bed. He felt hands take hold of his right arm and hold it down while a needle was inserted. When he looked over he could see blood leaving his body, moving into a plastic tube. Once it was filled another tube was attached and the process continued through three more tubes. Once it was done movement back to his left caught his attention and he turned to watch as something was injected into the I.V. line and almost instantly he felt his eyes slid closed against his will. He wasn't asleep, he was awake, but he couldn't move, or open his eyes. His muscles relaxed and his mind started swimming on him. He felt a needle being stabbed into his foot, and soon that started to tingle and go numb. He could feel pressure where his toe used to be. He felt his body being rolled onto his left side, twisting his left arm into an odd position because it was held secure to the hard plastic, which was digging into his elbow.

He wanted to pull away when hands started moving to examine his back and then moved further down, pushing his pants down to his knees. His mind flashed a memory of being in a similar situation, just after his father had shot his mother and him. He'd been examined in a similar way, to determine if he'd been molested, or worse. He tried to fight against the gloved hands, and the tools they were using, but it did no good, he couldn't move any muscle on his own. He didn't want them to touch him, and the feeling of being so helpless yet again only fueled his fear and anxiety, which fueled his anger. His anger at his brothers for leaving him and letting this happen. Where was Bobby and why was he letting people do this to him?

When he was finally pulled onto his back, he felt relief. Until the sweat pants and long johns his brother had put on him were pulled completely away from his legs and the examination continued.

After what seemed forever to the boy his mind started to close down and he was drifting into a state of unknowing. He could still feel touching from time to time, and he was sure he could feel the bed he was in moving across the floor. He felt stinging on his cheek, where Sweet had hit him.

He could feel pressure on his back at one point, but had no idea where it was coming from. Then still silence. Peace at last. He let the warmth of it soak through him and let his self relax inside. He didn't know how long he was floating in the blissful sleep, but it wasn't nearly long enough for him.

He felt a hand taking hold of his right hand and tried to pull away from it. His arm moved this time, and he pulled with what little strength he had.

"Hey kid, it's me." Bobby's voice drifted around him in the dark.

Craig still tried to pull away, he couldn't see where Bobby was, but he didn't want to be touched by any one at that moment. He was mad at his brothers as well as the doctors and the medics. He didn't want to be touched or talked to. He wanted to stay inside the safety of his dark, quiet sleep.

"Craig, come on, wake up." Bobby spoke quietly. The grip on his hand tightened. "The doctor said you should have come around a long time ago. You've been sleeping long enough."

Craig gave up pulling away, but he turned his head away from the voice and tried to find the safety of the sleep he'd been in.

"Craig, you gotta wake up or they won't let you go home tonight." Bobby spoke a little louder. "You wanna go home, don't you?"

"No." Craig muttered the word without truly comprehending the question. He only knew that Bobby had left him with Green, and had let strangers touch him, and poke at him. He didn't want to be around Bobby right then. He pulled on his hand again, managing to pull it away from Bobby, or more than likely, Bobby let go and let him have his hand back.

"Come on kid, open your eyes." Bobby's hand rested on his arm now.

Again Craig pulled his arm away and tried to roll onto his side, away from Bobby.

"Craig, stop it." Bobby's voice didn't sound as calm that time. "Open your eyes right now and look at me." His hand grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him back towards him.

Craig didn't follow the instructions. He frowned and tried to pull free of Bobby's hold. "No."

"Craig, if you don't want me to burn your ass right here in the hospital you will open your eyes and look at me." Bobby's voice was quiet but he sounded pissed off.

Craig opened his eyes and looked up at the I.V. bag hanging next to him on the left side of the bed. He followed the line down to his left arm which was still secured to the bedrail as it had been earlier. He didn't turn his head to look at Bobby.

"Look at me." Bobby pushed.

"Go away." Craig spoke weakly. He felt confused and hurt and angry all at the same time.

"What?" Bobby reached over and turned Craig's face to look at him. "What did you just say to me?" He looked hurt, and angry.

Craig swallowed hard but didn't repeat the words.

"You want to tell me what the fuck is going on in that head of yours right now? You really think I'm gonna let you start acting this way with me or any of your other brothers? If you think I would let you start acting like a complete ass with us then you don't know me very well." He kept his gaze on the boy.

Craig felt his insides quiver slightly. He didn't want to piss Bobby off, but he didn't want to be around any one right then. He felt confused and hurt and just wanted to be alone. He tried to pull away from Bobby again, but the man wouldn't let him this time.

"I told you before, you ain't gonna do this. You ain't gonna hide in your own little world. You're stronger than that. You mad at me? Cause I had to let Green take you for a little bit? Is that it? I'm sorry kid, but you needed a doctor. You needed it bad. That toe was infected, and you're bruised up really bad. You're not gonna feel too good for a while, and I know that means you're gonna be in a bad mood, but you don't tell me 'no,' and you damn sure don't pull away from me and tell me to go away. I'll make you regret that if it happens again." Bobby sat back in his chair, moving his hand to grab hold of the boy's hand firm enough that Craig knew he wasn't going to let go of it this time.

Craig looked up at the ceiling and swallowed back at the frustration that was building.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "Maybe I should let them keep you for the night." He spoke quietly. "I just wanted you at home where I could keep an eye on you myself." He gave Craig's hand a squeeze. "I thought you'd feel better at home."

Craig closed his eyes and turned his head away from Bobby again. He didn't care at that moment where he was, he just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to sleep, and forget about the past two days. He had wanted to go home earlier, but now he just didn't care. He'd had people drug him and poke around at his body and he felt humiliated by that. The thought of the way they examined him brought back the memories of being trapped in the dark with Victor Sweet, and that thought brought back the feelings he'd had during that time he'd been held prisoner by Sweet. It all seemed to snowball back through the shooting in the store when his adoptive mother was murdered, and then on to the night his father had killed his real mother and shot him. It had been the same emotions over and over again, and it seemed Evelyn Mercer had been the only person who could make him feel better about any of it, but she wasn't there now. He felt his chest constrict, and tears started to run. "I want Mom." He muttered quietly.

Bobby leaned forward and looked at the boy. "I know you do." He nodded his head. "I'd give anything right now for her to be here and tell me what to do for you. But she's not, so I guess you and me just gotta figure it out as we go, huh?"

Craig looked at Bobby. "They stuck me with needles Bobby." He muttered.

"Yeah, they do that in hospitals Craig." Bobby looked confused.

"They examined me." Craig muttered.

Bobby still looked confused. "They do that in hospitals too kid."

"No." Craig shook his head. "They…" He couldn't complete the statement. He couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth.

Bobby seemed to understand. "Yeah, I know." He nodded his head. "I already know."

Craig stared at Bobby, waiting for his brother to do or say something to make him feel better. He wasn't sure what he was waiting on.

"I don't have to tell you it wasn't your fault, you already know that." Bobby spoke quietly. "We don't have to worry about talking about it until we get you home and you've had a chance to settle down and feel a little better.

Craig stared at the man, that wasn't what he'd been waiting on, but he didn't know what he had expected. He needed something more than that but he didn't know what.

"Don't worry Craig. We'll deal with it." Bobby tried to sound reassuring, but it wasn't working. He gave the boy's hand a squeeze.

"Hey," Jerry walked through the door at that moment. He looked at Craig. "Well, look who decided to wake up." He grinned.

Bobby kept his gaze on Craig for a long moment. "How's Jack?" He finally turned to look at Jerry.

Jerry sucked in a deep breath. "He's holding his own man. You know him, he's a fighter."

Bobby nodded his head and looked at Craig. "Yeah, the sure sign of a Mercer." He let a small smile crease his lips.

"I told him you were down here with Craig and he understood." Jerry spoke carefully. "He ain't had no other visitors."

"Good. Neither has Craig," Bobby drew in a deep breath and stared at Craig for a long moment before speaking again. "Craig is gonna stay the night. He's pretty tired, and they want to watch him for a little bit. They said he could go, but since he's so tired they would feel better keeping him around." He looked back at Jerry. "So it looks like I'm bedding down here. You gonna head home?" He asked.

"Yeah, Camille's home with the girls, and I need to get home to her." Jerry walked over to Craig. "You look better than you did earlier kid. You get yourself some sleep and I'll see you in the morning." He reached out and brushed some hair off of the boy's forehead. "You need a haircut." He laughed.

Craig forced a smile for Jerry.

"Hey, I love ya man." Jerry gave his head a quick pat and then walked towards the door. "Bobby, you keep yourself out of trouble."

"What? It's a fucking hospital, what kind of trouble can I get into?" Bobby looked irritated by the statement, but then smiled.

Jerry walked out the door. Bobby looked at Craig. "Okay kid, if you are gonna stay here you may as well sleep." He sat back in his chair. "I know I'm going to." His hand still held Craig's. Craig stared at Bobby for a long moment before letting his eyes slip shut. He welcomed the sleep, and was thankful that he could feel Bobby's hand. He was still mad at his brother, but found his presence calming. As crazy as it sounded to him, Bobby made him feel more calm and at ease.


	37. Chapter 37

Thanks for readiing, and the reviews!

Still don't own, still no profit :)

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**_Chapter 37: Police _**

Craig didn't want to wake up. He'd barely gone to sleep, but there was activity, and sound around him, drawing him back out of the peaceful unknowing. There were voices talking back and forth, in his room, and although he could hear Bobby's among them, the others were strange and didn't seem very amiable. There was a sound like a chair scraping across the tile floor. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a strange man wearing a suit and tie standing next to his bed. When he turned his gaze to locate Bobby he felt every nerve in his body tingle, his muscles tensed up. Bobby was next to the door; two uniformed police officers were pulling his arms behind his back, and ready to clamp handcuffs on him.

Bobby wasn't fighting them, but he was asking them not to do that right there in front of his little brother. He is gaze fell on Craig, and he forced a smile at the boy. "Hey, you weren't supposed to wake up to see this." He turned his head and looked at a man wearing a suit. "He don't need to see this, he's been screwed up enough." He sounded angry. "I said I'd go with you, can't you put these cuffs on me outside his room?" His question went unanswered. Craig heard the cuffs snap closed, and it made his own wrists throb.

The man in the suit smiled and shook his head, but didn't say a word. "Take Mr. Mercer to the station, we'll catch up with him there." He turned and looked at Craig.

"Hey, you can't ask him any questions without a parent with him. That would be me. You leave him alone Higgins." Bobby called out as the officers pulled him from the room.

The man in the suit smiled at the boy. "I'm glad you decided to wake up for me Craig." His voice was cheerful, but it sounded fake, "My name is Detective Higgins. I know it's pretty late, but I need to ask you a few questions about where you have been the past couple of days." He pulled up the chair Bobby had settled into just a short time before and sat down, making his self comfortable. "How are you feeling? You're feeling better?"

Craig kept his gaze on the man but didn't say a word. He couldn't have spoken right then if he'd wanted to. His insides had turned to stone and he didn't think he could find his voice.

"You were taken by a man named Victor Sweet, am I right?" Higgins asked, pulling a small notepad from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. "You do remember that, don't you?" He pulled an ink pen out of the same pocket. "I mean that would be a bit difficult to forget, now wouldn't it?" 

Though there was a smile on his face, his tone was not a pleasant one; it sent chills down the boy's back.

Craig could feel the man's stare drilling through him, it felt frosty and callous. He swallowed hard at the sensation of his heart pounding hard in his chest and throat.

"How did you get away from Sweet, Craig?" Higgins held his pen up as if here about to write down something.

Craig turned away from the man, putting his back to him and in the process he twisted his left arm, which was still held securely to the bed railing. The I.V. lines twisted and the alarm on the I.V. monitor went off within seconds.

The detective stood and walked around the bed. He stood where Craig could see him. "Look, young man, either we can do this here, or I can have you brought down to the station, right alongside your brothers. You are due to be discharged in the morning; you can be discharged into the custody of Children's Services. We can bring them in on this and have you bedding down at the county facility for as long as needed. You don't think the stability of your home life hasn't come into question here?"

Craig felt his pulse pick up, rushing the blood to his ears, the swishing sound that resulted partially drowned out Higgins' voice. He rolled back the other way, trying to get the man out of his line of vision. The words started rolling around in his head. 'Stability of your home life', what did that mean? That meant they were going to take him away from his brothers? Because some ass hole shot his mother, tried to kill his brothers, and kidnapped him? He was going to be taken away because of what someone else did to them?

The man walked back around the bed, standing over him, hovering there. "We can keep this up all night long kid. I need to know which one of your brothers was responsible for killing Victor Sweet. Or was it all three?" He pushed. "You were there, tell me what happened. Your brother Angel was accounted for, he was at the home of cop, and managed to get that cop to pull his gun on him, and his fellow officers. Conveniently Sweet is found frozen like a Popsicle in the lake, and you just happen to turn up in an alley after a report was filed that you were missing? Come on, you don't really think that's gonna fly, do you? We got enough evidence to send your brothers up for a long time, and unless you want to go in front of a judge for being a part of covering it up, you need to start telling me what the hell really happened." Higgins' voice was taking on a more menacing tone, and the man wasn't smiling any more.

A nurse walked into the room at that moment. "Now how did you manage to do that?" She smiled at the boy and walked over to the I.V. turning off the beeping alarm and checking the fluid in the bag. She checked the line and then looked down at the boy. After a moment she looked at the detective standing next to his bed. "If you don't mind, I need to check his vitals." She sounded pleasant.

"Well of course not." Higgins smiled but it wasn't quite a full smile. He waited while the nurse took the various readings she needed. Craig hoped what she needed to do would take a while, he didn't want her to leave him with this man, but he couldn't very well ask her to stay.

As the woman worked, she spoke in between her tasks. "You sure are a quiet one." She smiled. "They were wishing you would be this quiet when they brought you in tonight." She shook her head and looked at the detective. "He's was in shock when he came in, and was a little difficult to handle." She commented. "The quiet is normal after the trauma he's suffered." She didn't seem to really know who she was talking to. "But I'm sure the doctor explained all of that to you." She turned her attention back to Craig. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you. If you need anything, you know where our button is, don't you?" She leaned over Craig, grabbing his right hand and carefully placing it over the button. "You just press on that if you need me for anything at all." She pulled herself back and walked out of the room.

Higgins turned and looked at the boy. "Now where were we?" He asked.

Craig stared at the man, the fear building inside of him. He tried to swallow down the fear that was rising in him again.

"Let's try working our way back. You were found in an alley behind a dumpster?" Higgins returned to the chair.

Craig diverted his attention to the ceiling. He concentrated hard on the panels that were covered in silver and black spots. He started to count them while the man spoke.

"Detective Green found you there? He claims he was following up on some leads and spotted the van pulling into the alley. His report states that it seemed suspicious, and he went to find out who it was and why they were pulling into that alley behind a business at that time of the night. By the time he got there, the vehicle pulled away at a high rate of speed and you were laying there behind the dumpster."

Craig lost count on the dots and started over. He was trying hard to block out the voice of the detective, and that wasn't too hard with the blood swooshing in his ears. His eyes were starting to hurt and he felt an itch starting to creep up his left arm.

"You need to tell me the truth kid. You are under age, you were taken by a sick son of a bitch, and you were held against your will, that is kidnapping, you had no control over what your brothers did. They may have thought they were doing the right thing, but they took the law into their own hands and they shouldn't have." Higgins' voice sounded angry. "That makes them murderers."

Craig thought hard about the man's words. How did he know Victor Sweet had him? No one had said that Victor Sweet had him, did they? Green just said he found him. He'd just said that a report had been filed that he was missing, not that he'd been grabbed off the street in front of his house. He blinked back tears and started over on counting the spots above him.

"You really want to play this game with me? Fine," The man stood and pulled out a cell phone. "Have it your way kid." He started punching numbers on the phone, and then rested it to his ear. "Yeah, it's Higgins. I need a representative from Children's Serviced down here at the hospital. I'm in the pediatric ward with Craig Mercer." He listened for a moment. "No, I want someone here within the hour, and I want the papers we talked about earlier." He looked at Craig and smiled. "Well, push it. I want this kid in county custody by eight o'clock this morning." He nodded his head. "Right, good, I'll be waiting." He hung up the phone.

Craig felt his heart beat quicken and his breath caught in his throat. A pain in his stomach stabbed at him and he felt as if he were going to get sick.

"You only needed to tell me the truth kid. I don't think you are going to be seeing your brothers any time soon. You'll be placed at St. Vincent's while your case is investigated, and then they will place you in foster care."

He couldn't do that. He couldn't take him away from Bobby, could he? He couldn't take him away from the only home he'd ever known. Tears started to slide down his cheek, and he couldn't stop them.

"Higgins." A voice spoke from the door. Craig looked over at Green, and almost felt relief. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find some answers Green. What are you doing here?" Higgins looked upset to see the man.

"It's my case, what do you think I'm doing here?" Green walked into the room and looked at Craig. "You okay kid?'

Craig shook his head slowly.

Green looked at Higgins. "What the hell did you say to him?" He looked angry.

"I told him the truth; that Children's Services will be coming for him." Higgins spoke quickly.

"The hell they will." Green shook his head and looked at Craig. "Ain't anyone coming for you Craig, they wouldn't do that unless they thought your home was a danger to your well being. Your brothers have never done anything to hurt you, now have they?"

Craig shook his head quickly.

Higgins gave Green a look. "I need to talk to you out in the hall." His voice was loud.

"Yes, let's do that." Green leveled a glare on the man. "After you," He motioned to the open door.

Higgins walked out. Green looked at Craig. "I'll be right back." He followed Higgins out.

Craig could hear the voices just outside the door to his room.

"You used a threat like that on an already emotionally and physically traumatized juvenile? You attempted to question him without the permission of his guardian, and there was no advocate present during this? You have just buried yourself Higgins." Green spoke loud enough that Craig could hear him.

Higgins said something, but his voice wasn't as loud and Craig couldn't' make out the words.

"He ain't gonna talk to you. He's scared. You know the history on him. When his mother was murdered he couldn't talk to us then. This isn't some act on his part, he can't talk to us. You just hauled off his brother and you think making an empty threat like that is gonna help the situation? "Green was giving it to Higgins hard. "You can't get Children's Services to do shit and you know it. His history with the Mercers is perfect. He was adopted by Evelyn, and she made his brother his guardian. Unless it were to come to light that the man abused the boy in any way no one is going to make a move on the kid. He's been hurt alright, but it wasn't by any of his brothers. You just put him through more hell, and that makes you as low as the scum that put him in this hospital."

There was quiet for a long time before Green walked back into the room. Green pushed the door closed and looked at Craig for a long moment before speaking. "He didn't call Children's Services. It was just a trick." He spoke quietly. "One of those tricks that some cops like to use to get people to say things." His words came out slow. "Remember the other morning, at your house, when Fowler tried to say we found Bobby's hair? You remember that?"

Craig didn't respond, he just stared at Green, sucking air in quickly.

"It was a stupid trick like that." Green smiled. "You know me, I ain't gonna use no kind of trick." He pulled out a pad and pen. "But you do trust me enough to tell me a couple of things." He spoke casually.

Craig felt confused, not sure what point Green was trying to make.

"Now, you don't remember anything about the past two days. You were given shots that kept you asleep most of the time, and when you were awake, that's all pretty hazy." He mumbled the words as if he were talking to himself as he started writing on the paper in his hands. "You don't know who grabbed you, you never saw them." He walked over and sat in the chair. "Okay, you weren't awake when they dumped you in the alley, so whatever they used to blind fold you and tie you was removed then." He went back to writing. "You were scared shitless the whole time, and you just don't remember anything else." He closed up the pad and looked at Craig. "You see, you trusted me enough to tell me that." He leaned up in the chair and looked at Craig closely. "Kid, you look scared shitless now. It's okay, trust me. Your brothers will be out by morning. In the mean time, you need to get some sleep." He smiled.

Craig felt a little relief from Green's words, but not much. What if Higgins had indeed called to have Children's Services sent to the hospital? What if they were on their way there right now? What if they did have evidence to put his brothers in prison? He'd always been good at the 'what if' game. His mind was quickly churning his emotions into a storm as he started imagining all of the different ways he could lose his brothers. The itch in his arm intensified, and he fought the urge to start scratching at it. He looked back up at the ceiling and starting counting the spots again. Not that he needed to because of Green, he just needed something to occupy his mind, to keep him from thinking the worst. It wasn't helping though. His mind started going back to the week before, when his mother died, and the old fears that he'd been battling that week were rushing in, most of them reinforced by the words Higgins had said to him.

"Craig, you need to get some sleep." Green spoke quietly. "I'll stay here with you for a while, if you want me to." The man sat back in the chair. "Bobby, Jerry and Angel will be here in the morning. You just wait."

Craig didn't acknowledge the words from Green. He continued to count the spots above him. He forced his mind to block out everything else. The spots above him were the most important thing to him now. Green spoke again, but his voice didn't penetrate the boy's concentration. He counted a hundred and fifteen spots total on one ceiling panel, and then started counting only the silver specks. The room fell silent, and Craig assumed Green was giving up on talking to him. The itch in his arm started to move up to his shoulder, and he reached up and scratched at it, still counting. Seventy six silver spots dotted the panel. He started counting the black, while he scratched a little harder at his shoulder. The spots seemed to start dancing around above him. He was barely up to twenty on the black spots and he could have sworn they were moving around to confuse him. He kept trying to count them though, and after what seemed to be a long time he was sure he could hear them laughing at him, the same laugh that he'd heard come from man number two when he was trapped in the dark with tape over his eyes, Sweet holding a gun to his head and telling him to…

"Woe, woe, woe." Green was right next to him with no warning, pulling his hand away from his shoulder, interrupting the memory. "Jesus kid…" He started to speak.

Craig lost it. He let out a scream and tried to pull away from Green, tried to pull his hand back to the itch that seemed to be eating away at his shoulder. Green didn't let go of him. He held on firmly and pushed the button for the nurse.

Craig felt the room starting to spin, and he let out another scream, this time louder and longer. He wanted Green to let go of him, he wanted out of the bed, and out of the hospital. He wanted to go home and hide in his room and forget about everything that had happened to him or what might happen next.

More hands were grabbing hold of him. He could see the same nurse from before standing above him, speaking to him, but he couldn't hear her words. The pulse that had been swooshing in his ears for a while now seemed to intensify and that was all he could hear. He felt the familiar panic seeping out from every pore in his skin and he couldn't stop it. He realized there were two other men in the room now. One of them pushed Green back, grabbed the boy's right arm, and pressed down on his chest to keep him lying back in the bed. The other man grabbed hold of his legs, which Craig hadn't realized he was kicking. Another nurse walked in carrying a tray, and within seconds there was a syringe held up to the I.V. line. Craig continued to fight and scream, but the fight was slowly being drugged. He felt his feet and hands starting to tingle, and slowly his muscles seemed to turn to jelly. He couldn't move them. He continued to try to scream, but even that was dying down to nothing more than a whimper.

"Get me something to clean this." The first nurse leaned over and started pulling the hospital gown away from his shoulder. "It's not so bad. You drew some blood though." She looked down at Craig. "I can't have one of my patients walking out of here in worse shape than when he came in, now can I?"

Craig's vision closed in on him and he felt as if he were in a tunnel for a long moment, before everything went black.


	38. Chapter 38

This one is a little short, I'm sorry. More to come though :)

Disclaimer still counts

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_****_Chapter 38: Sleep_**

Jerry, Bobby and Angel stood at the front counter of the police station, waiting for their possessions to be given back to them. Angel had a bloody lip, Jerry had a cut eye, and Bobby had a shiner on his left eye. They couldn't help but laugh at the idea that all three of them, despite being questioned by different detectives, had all confessed to the same thing, screwing around with the wives of the men inflicting their respective injuries. Bobby couldn't help but think that they thought too much alike. They had been in separate rooms, with three separate cops questioning them, and all three cops received the same confession. He was sure that Craig hadn't said anything to the cop, Higgins, or they wouldn't be getting out of there right then. Jack was in the clear as far as questioning, at least for now. He was in the hospital during the whole ice lake incident, and he sure couldn't talk at that moment.

"So, what are we doing now?" Angel asked.

"You want to see your brothers? I sure as hell do." Bobby turned and watched the uniform behind the counter gathering up the separate plastic baggies their belongings had been put into. "I didn't get to see Jack last night, I need to see him. You haven't seen Craig yet."

"Yeah, but only if I can nap in the car," Angel agreed. "It's been a long night." He took his own belongings, and Jerry followed suit.

Sofi walked over to Angel and wrapped her arms around one of his arms. "You go to the hospital, and when you get home I'll have a good dinner waiting for you." She spoke quietly.

Camille waited for Jerry to turn and look at her. "Well? What are you doing?" She asked.

Jerry drew in a deep breath and looked at Bobby and Angel. "You know I wanna come too, but man, my girls were upset last night, seeing police officers taking me out of the house, and …" He started.

"Yeah, I bet it was hard on them watching the cops drag you off like that." Bobby nodded his head. "No worries, you go take care of your family. We'll call you later."

"Yeah, we need to start talking about new windows brother. That house is gonna be cold." Angel seemed to shiver as he spoke the words.

"Yeah, I'll do some checking and see what I can find once my girls know I'm okay." Jerry nodded his head and turned to Camille, who smiled at him.

"What the hell are we standing around here for then? Let's go." Bobby looked at them all before pushing past them and walking towards the door.

Green was standing at the bottom of the stairs just outside the door as the brothers, Sofi, and Camille walked out of the station. Bobby looked at him. "Green," He nodded his head, not wanting to appear too friendly to the man out in public just yet. It might look suspicious. He would however have to remember to thank him for his help. He wasn't too good with 'thank you' or 'sorry'. That thought brought a nagging feeling to him that he had made a mental note to tell someone he was sorry for something. He glanced at Jerry as the memory returned. Yeah, he'd have to make sure Jerry knew he felt bad about the things he'd accused him of just two days before.

"Bobby." Green looked at all three men. "You guys look like you had a rough night." He nearly smiled.

"Naw, we had a blast." Angel smiled at the statement. "You should have been there."

Green drew in a deep breath and looked at Bobby. "You are heading to the hospital?" He asked.

Bobby nodded his head.

"Good, cause your little brother didn't have nearly as good a night as you three." Green nodded his head.

"What does that mean?" Bobby asked, "Which little brother?"

"Jack's fine. I stopped by and said hey to him before I left." Green drew in a deep breath. "It was Higgins, man he tried to mess with Craig to get him to talk to him. He made threats about Children's Services and having him taken away from you, that kind of bullshit."

"What?" Bobby felt a ball of anger instantly burning his gut.

"I got him out of there, explained to Craig it was trick, and thought he was okay, but I guess the damage was done. He just stared off into space for a while and then he started scratching at his shoulder. I didn't realize what he was doing, and…" He drew in a deep breath. "Well, he scratched a pretty good bit. He flipped out after that, started fighting anyone who touched him. They had to sedate him. I stuck around though, just in case he woke up." Green could see by the look on Bobby's face that the man wasn't too surprised.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Well, thanks for doin' that." It pissed him off that he wasn't the one that was there for the kid.

"He has a problem, when he's scared, or nervous, he starts itching. He went for a long time without doin' it, but since Mom..." Angel spoke quietly. "Come on man, let's get to the hospital." He turned and looked at Bobby.

Green turned to walk up the steps to the entrance. "You go. I'll check in with you all later."

Jerry looked at Bobby and Angel. "You give Jack and Craig my love; tell them I'll see them both later on today." Jerry spoke quickly. "I'll be by later."

Sofi kissed Angel goodbye and then left with Jerry and Camille, because she didn't have any other way home. Once Jerry's car pulled away Bobby looked at Angel. "So, where is Ma's car?" He asked.

"Ma's car is still parked down the block from Fowler's house, as far as I know." Angel looked at Bobby, a cautious glare forming in his eyes. "Where the hell is your car?" He asked.

"I was hauled in from the hospital you ass, it's still there, I hope." Bobby drew in a deep breath and looked down the street at Jerry's retreating tail lights. "Fuck."

"The bus," Angel sighed.

Bobby looked at his brother. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," He muttered.

* * *

Craig felt hot and sweaty. He tried to kick blankets off of him, but his legs wouldn't kick. He'd been dreaming, continuously, and it seemed he could remember every nightmare that had attacked him after the drug had been administered to him. It was an odd feeling, knowing he was asleep, being aware of it and not being able to open his eyes or make any part of his body move. The nightmares all ran together, making him feel as if he'd been fighting them off for days. His father was blending in with Stanley Miller and then that would morph into Victor Sweet. His real mother's screams blended with the cry from Evelyn when she was shot. His aching for both women ripped at his chest, and he cried, in his sleep, feeling the tears rolling down his cheeks but unable to pull his hands up to wipe them away.

His mind begged for someone to make it stop, he swore he would be good, he wouldn't make a sound. He wouldn't fight them, just let him wake up. His pleas were met with silence. He was alone, and he hated that feeling. He wanted his brothers to come and get him, but his mind started playing out visions of his brothers is jail, and he would never see them again.

"He's been sedated, but he can probably hear you, so talk to him." A woman's voice spoke quietly, and he strained to hear.

He tried to call out that he would be good if they let him wake up and get away from the pictures and sounds in his head. He wanted out of the dark. He could almost feel the tape pressed over his eyes, and his throat felt dry and hot. He couldn't swallow, because he could feel the gag in his mouth again. Then the feeling of someone touching him, and his mind screamed out to him that it was Victor Sweet, he was back and he was angry. He tried to pull away from the touching, and he tried to scream out, but couldn't.

"Craig, calm down, it's me." The voice sounded familiar, and he tried to recall who it was. It wasn't menacing, it wasn't mean. He felt a hand rest on his forehead and attempted to turn away from it.

"Craig, come on man. It's Angel." The voice was calm, and it had a reasurring effect. "You're okay kid, no one is gonna hurt you." The hand moved away from his forehead but took hold of his right hand. "We heard Higgins said somethings to you to upset you. Whatever he said was bullshit, you know that."

Craig felt his muscles relax slightly. He couldn't pull away from the hold on his hand, so he had to leave it. He tried to remember who was talking to him, he knew the name, but the nightmares were pushing back and trying to place his father at his bedside. He whimpered at the thought of the man touching him, holding his hand as if he cared about him. All he'd ever cared about was money and drugs. He'd kept his wife hooked on dope so he could what he wanted without her interference. She'd get straight for a while and leave him, taking Craig to safety, but he'd always come back, and he would always end up in the boy's room, starting the same things again. Taking Craig out with him while his wife lay in a drugged daze on the couch or in the bed, standing the boy up on a table in the back room of a bar, or a club, and letting people look at him, telling him what he would do for the person who paid the most money.

"He's dreaming, why don't you give him something to wake him up?" Angel's voice spoke loud.

"He was extremely aggressive. We had to do something to calm him. He'll wake up in a few hours." The woman's voice spoke again. "He's fine, Mr. Mercer."

"He's dreaming, he's not fine, can't you give him something to wake him up?" Angel's voice seemed to increase in volume, and Craig realized it wasn't his father next to him; it was Angel, his older brother. "You don't understand, he's had nightmares for years and they are bad. Now there must be some way for you to wake his ass up."

"I'm sorry but there's not. Like I said before, talk to him, and keep hold of his hand. I'm sure he knows you're there." The reply was the last Craig would hear from the nurse. Even if she did speak any more, he wasn't paying attention; he was focused on hearing Angel's voice. He needed to hear something more than what his brain was generating from his fear. He tried hard to squeeze on Angel's hand, to get his brother's attention. He wanted hear his voice again.

"Hey there kid, did you just hold onto my hand?" Angel asked. "Can you hear me?"

Craig tried again to squeeze, his hopes rising that Angel was feeling it. "Yeah, you're in there, aren't you?" Angel's big hand squeezed back. "You relax kid, I'm here, and I ain't gonna let no one hurt you. I'll just sit here with you and grab some sleep myself, how's that?"

Craig felt his mind finally let go of the nightmares, and the tension that had filled his body was slowly subsiding. If Angel was there then everything had to be okay. Bobby and Jerry had to be okay, and he would get to go home soon, and hide from everything that had happened in the past week.

* * *

Bobby talked to Jack's doctor before going in to see him. The breathing tube was going to be removed later that day, if Jack continued doing well, and he would be moved out of I.C.U. He was healing better than they had hoped, and could be coming home in about a week, though the drainage tubes inserted into his chest would have to remain for a couple of weeks and would have to be taken care of at home. Bobby cringed at the thought of having to learn about cleaning the area where the tubes had been inserted, or the maintenance of the tubes that were draining fluids from his brother's lungs. He was sure that Sofi would be a good candidate for that responsibility.

Bobby stood next to the bed and looked at his brother, whose eyes were closed and he seemed to be sleeping. "Hey there you little fairy," He took a hold of the younger man's hand. "You look pretty good for a guy who's had a bullet pulled from his lung."

Jack let a small smile ease up under the tube and tape, and his eyes opened for a moment, but only for a moment.

Bobby looked around and found the chair before sitting. "You go ahead and sleep little brother, I'm gonna be right here when you wake up."

He informed him. "You need to be well rested, you know they are gonna take that tube out today."

Jack opened his eyes and found Bobby in his view, nodding his head slowly.

Bobby stared at him. "You feel okay Jackie?" He was a little worried that his brother seemed so tired.

Jack nodded his head again, pointed up at the I.V. that was still running into his veins.

"Oh, they gave you something to help you sleep?" Bobby asked.

Again Jack nodded his head, and again he closed his eyes.

Bobby sat back in the chair and watched his brother sleep. He still had his hand on Jack's as he rested his head back and closed his eyes. It had been a long two days. He felt emotionally spent, and he wasn't looking forward to what the rest of the day had in store for him. Craig was supposed to be released that morning, but after his episode the night before, courtesy of Detective Higgins, he wasn't so sure that was going to happen. He'd stopped downstairs with Angel before heading up to sit with Jack; and Craig's doctor, while not on the floor right then, had left instructions with the nurse to hold the fourteen year old anther day if he was still that emotionally unstable when he woke. Bobby knew the best thing for Craig was to be at home, but at that moment, with Jack in the condition he was in, it would be easier to have them both in the hospital. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to be with Jack and Craig both any other way.

Just as his mind was drifting off to sleep, he was sure he felt his mother's hand pat the hand he was using to hold onto Jack. "It's going to be fine Bobby." Her voice sounded faint. He opened his eyes quickly and looked up, but there was no one else in the room. He sighed, rested his head back again, and let his mind drift off into some much needed sleep.


	39. Chapter 39

Sorry for the delay all, it's been a crazy few days! Thanks again for the kind words and the advice! I know this one might seem a little slow, but it had to slow down a little...

Still don't own, still make no money...

* * *

**_Chapter 39: Healing?_**

"Mr. Mercer." The voice was speaking quietly. "Mr. Mercer, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir." A man's voice was speaking. Was he actually speaking to him? Why the hell would a man be in his room? He sat straight up quickly, reaching for his gun, but his gun wasn't there. Of course not, he'd gotten rid of the gun before they came to the hospital because they were sure the police would be showing up any time, and he didn't want the gun on him. Wait a minute, the police had shown up at the hospital, that's where he was now, sitting next to Jack, catching some much needed sleep.

Bobby's mind cleared quickly as he pulled his coat around him and looked at the doctors and nurses standing round Jack's bed, staring at him as if here causing some sort of worry. He was starting to think these people were far too easily alarmed. He used the grin that he'd used so many times on his mother as a boy growing up. "Sorry, I guess I wasn't sure where I was." He stood slowly and looked at Jack who seemed to be sleeping. "You're taking that thing off of him?" He motioned at the breathing apparatus that was doing Jack's breathing for him.

"Yes, we are removing the respirator." One of the nurses smiled at him. She was a tiny girl with blond hair pulled tightly back, and wide blue eyes that seemed the shade of a clear summer sky. "It's going to be a few minutes. If you would like to go get a cup of coffee, or anything, please feel free to do so."

Bobby nodded his head. "I'll be downstairs checking on my other brother." He fought down a yawn. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was yawn in front of the pretty young thing that had answered his question. He turned and walked out of the room quickly, losing the battle with the yawn as soon as he was in the hall. He took a quick glance back at the girl, thinking he would have to make a point to talk to her a little later, if he was able to locate her.

He passed a room with vending machines on his way to the elevator, and did get himself a cup of coffee; he bought a second cup, thinking Angle might like one. He sipped on his as he stood on the elevator, starting to wake up a little more. One he got to the floor where Craig's room was located he walked slowly, trying to stretch his muscles with each step he took. He didn't remember Craig's room being so far down the hall before. It could have been that he was more aware of his surroundings now that he'd had a little sleep.

As he neared Craig's room, he was sure he could hear the sound of an engine outside about to blow up. As he drew closer to Craig's room the sound grew in volume. He found Craig's door standing open, and Angel lying back in the chair with his feet propped up on the boy's bed, his face angled upwards, towards the ceiling and his mouth wide open. The snores emitting from him were loud and uneven, it was the engine he'd been so sure he heard from the hall. He shook his head and walked around the bed to Angel's legs and gave them a hard kick, sending them off the edge of the bed.

"What the fuck!" Angel cried out as his shoes hit the tile floor. He was on his feet, looking as confused as Bobby had felt just five minutes earlier. His stare fell on Bobby who had started laughing instantly. "What the hell is wrong with you man? You are one sick ass hole, you know that?" Angel's voice was loud, and Craig's head turned slightly on his pillow.

"Shut up you'll wake up the kid." Bobby held out the small cup in his hands.

Angel looked at the cup, glanced at Craig, and then took the coffee before sitting back down in the chair. "What time is it?" He reached up with one hand to rub at his eyes.

Bobby hadn't even thought about the time. He glanced at the clock to find it was nearly two, and relayed that information to his brother before asking, "How is he doing?" He looked at Craig closely for the first time since he'd been in the room.

"They doped him up pretty good. He's been dreaming off and on." Angel answered. "When I talk to him he seems to settle down for a little while, but after an hour or so he starts again."

"So you haven't really gotten much sleep then, huh?" Bobby asked, almost feeling guilty that he'd managed to get some decent sleep, even if it was in a chair.

Angel shook his head. "I'm fine. He'd settle down pretty quick and we would both just go back to sleep."

"Well how long is he going to sleep?" Bobby asked, walking over the bed and setting his coffee down on the stand next to it. "He needs to wake up."

"Don't know, they keep telling me he'll wake up when he's ready to." Angel took a sip of his coffee. "How's Jackie?" He asked.

"They kicked me out of the room so they can take that breathing tube out of him." Bobby answered. "I'll head back up there in a bit, I wanted to check on this one, make sure he was doin' okay." He reached out and felt Craig's forehead. "He feels warm."

"Okay, Mama Bobby, I think if he had a fever they would have caught that. They're in here like every fifteen minutes checking on him. They keep saying as soon as he wakes up they'll give him some food and take that I.V. out of him."

"Every fifteen minutes?" Bobby looked at Angel. "How would you know that if you've been sleeping?"

Angel smiled. "I sleep with my eyes open man, didn't you know that?"

Bobby looked back down at Craig, leaning closer to him. He couldn't stand the idea that the kid was still asleep, it felt wrong. "Craig, you wanna wake up yet?" He asked quietly, he wanted the kid awake, he would feel better if he was awake and talking.

"No," Craig's answer was immediate, and clear.

Bobby shook his head. "Well, do you want something to eat? You want to get that fucking needle out of your arm any time soon so you can go home?"

Craig's eyes cracked open and he looked up at Bobby. "Not right now." He closed his eyes again.

"Don't you think you've been sleeping enough? You need to wake up, get something to eat, and act like a real person, and then they'll let you out of this dump." Bobby had the boy's attention now, he wasn't about to let him go back to sleep. "Open your eyes and you look at me when I'm talking to you." He used the tone he'd been using a lot with the kid, one that sounded like his mother when she wanted one of her sons to do something and not argue about it.

Craig opened his eyes and looked at Bobby. "Why can't I sleep?" He asked.

"Because you've been sleeping all fucking night and day, it's time you woke up. You need to get some food in your stomach and show everyone here that you can act like a normal person so they'll let you go home." Bobby sat on the edge of the bed and planted a hand on either side of the boy. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon. I need you to get your shit together kid."

Craig drew in a deep breath but didn't say anything. He didn't close his eyes again either, that was a good sign.

"Okay, now let's get a nurse in here to take a look at you." He reached for the button and hit it to call the nurse and then looked at Angel while waiting for the nurse to come in. "I need to get back upstairs to Jack." He commented.

"How about I go up to Jack, I ain't seen him today. You need to stay here and find out from the nurse what's goin' on with this one goin' home." Angel offered.

Bobby thought about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Okay," He agreed. "But you tell him I'll be back up there soon."

Angel looked at Craig. "I'll be back soon enough. I expect to see you still awake and hear that you've eaten some food when I get back." He looked back at Bobby, "I'll call down and let you know what's up with Jackie." He walked past the bed, and out the door.

Bobby looked at the boy, "Well, I know how your night went. You want to hear about ours?" He asked, wanting desperately to let the boy know that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Craig's eyes wanted to close, he wanted to go back to sleep, but he listened to Bobby telling him about being questioned by the police. He had noticed the black eye right away, and wasn't surprised that Bobby seemed proud of the way he'd acquired it. He still felt groggy and wanted to go back to sleep, but at the same time, he was glad Bobby was there, it made him feel better, he seemed to remember wanting his brother with him so bad that it had hurt deep in his chest. Part of his mind was listening as Bobby went on about the questions that had been thrown at him and the man started laughing when he told Craig they tried to give him a line of shit about finding his hair on Victor Sweet's body. He went on forever, giving the boy every detail.

Craig got to the point that he was only half listening. His mind was starting to work, as it woke up more, and he realized that Bobby had left Jack to come down to be with him, he'd heard Bobby say that he'd come down from Jack's room. He felt guilty about that. He'd wanted Bobby with him so bad, that he hadn't considered that Jack might need him even more. Jack was shot, right? He'd been shot out in the street, but had dropped down on top of him, to protect him, and that was the last clear memory that he had. He wasn't really hurt too bad, he didn't think, but Jack had been shot, and it couldn't be good, but no one had really told him how bad Jack was hurt, had they? If they had he didn't remember, his memories from the night before were hazy and jumbled around in his mind, and the events from before that were even more distant to him. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened, and he didn't want to remember it. He could remember bits and pieces about the past couple of days, but his mind was quickly shutting most of it out. He didn't really want to hear Bobby talking about it, but that seemed to be all the man wanted to do. He was trying to keep it blocked out, but Bobby's words would bring it back.

He wanted some time to be alone, and try to sort out his thoughts. Unlike before, he was wishing Bobby would go back to Jack and let him have some time to wake up and make sense of the feelings that were starting to stir inside of him. Instead the man was rambling on about things that sounded familiar to him, but his foggy memories were struggling to remain that way. He looked down at his I.V. for a moment; a sensation of dread hit him at the thought of a needle being stuck into him. He quickly looked at Bobby. "How's Jack?" He asked the man, interrupting him in the middle of a sentence. He'd heard part of it, something about telling a cop he'd been bangin' his wife all night.

Bobby looked at the boy for a long moment; surprised it seemed by the question. "They took him off the machine that was doin' his breathing for him." He spoke quietly. "He's been sleeping most of the time, like you, but if he can breathe on his own okay, they'll keep him awake, and he's gonna get stronger. They had to remove a bullet from his lung." He spoke the words slowly.

"Why aren't you with him?" Craig asked, feeling guilty that Bobby was there with him, instead of with Jack, and feeling awkward about it. his guilt grew because he'd been wishing that Bobby would leave him alone for just a little bit so that he could think.

"Well I was, but they made me leave so they could remove that tube, and I came down here to check on you." Bobby looked even more surprised by the second question.

"I'm fine." Craig muttered. "I didn't get shot." He kept his gaze on Bobby. "You should be with Jack, he's hurt worse than me." He muttered. It seemed ironic to him. Bobby had left Jack to come and check on him, but he didn't want him there, and all the while the man needed to be with Jack more than he needed to be with Craig.

"I want to see what the nurse has to say. Angel went up to Jack's room, he'll let us know what's goin' on with Jack, you heard him say so yourself." Bobby spoke quickly.

"When can I see him?" Craig asked weakly, he could feel a tension in his voice that he couldn't hide, but Jack had protected him, that much he was sure of. Part of his mind told him that if Jack wouldn't be hurt now if it weren't for him, but his memory couldn't piece together the reason for that feeling.

"Well, I don't know if they'll let you right now. I mean, I don't even know if you are going to be getting out of this bed today, let alone roam around the hospital. I think it would be best to wait until they move him to a real room anyway." Bobby seemed to be picking his words carefully. "Besides, when you do go home, you're gonna have to take it easy yourself. You got some healing of your own to do."

The nurse came into the room at that moment and looked at the boy. "Well, I see someone managed to get you to wake up." She glanced at Bobby. "How do you feel?" She asked as she looked back to Craig.

Craig looked at her and another wave of guilt hit him. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't shake the sensation. "Fine, I guess," He answered her in a quiet voice.

The woman started taking the boy's blood pressure, his pulse and his temperature. She stepped back once she was finished. "Do you feel like eating something?"

Craig wasn't the least bit hungry right then. "Sure." He lied, not wanting to cause any problems, or get Bobby worked up. He wasn't sure when he'd eaten last, and he was sure if he denied the food his brother wouldn't be happy. Angel had already said something to him about eating. He wasn't in the mood to have any brother yelling at him. He wished Bobby would go back up to Jack's room and let him havesome time to think. He was feeling more alert about what was going on around him, but he still felt confused about what had gotten him to the hospital. His brain was trying to sort it out, and still fighting letting it at the same time. He didn't want to tell Bobby how confused he felt, he didn't want Bobby to start making a big deal about it. He would remember everything eventually, he was sure. If he didn't remember it straight out, his mind would tell him the story in it's own way, by emptying out onto pages of blank paper, once he got home and had the chance to let it out.

He was half listening to the nurse talking to him. "Well good. I'm going to warn you though; it's not going to be much more than soft foods and liquids. We need to see how your system reacts to eating before we give you much more. I'll call the kitchen and get a tray up here to you." she turned and walked out of the room.

Craig looked up at Bobby to find the man staring at him. "What?" He asked.

"You're sure you're okay?" Bobby asked, wearing a look Craig couldn't read.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Craig muttered. How could he tell Bobby that he didn't remember what had happened to land him in a hospital? There was no reason to worry any of his brothers about it, it seemed he was always causing some sort of problem, and he was getting tired of it. They might decide that he was nothing more than one big problem and change their minds about sticking around. It had been that way for seven years, and for it to change as quickly as it did was starting to feel too good to be true. He had to make sure that he wasn't a problem, and now that what ever had happened was over, he could melt into the background and stay out of their way.

Bobby nodded his head. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go find that nurse and ask her whether you can go home today or not." He stayed in his spot, looking at t he boy.

Craig realized Bobby was waiting for him to say something, so he told him, "Okay."

Craig could see Bobby through the door, talking to the nurse for a long time, glancing back through the door at him every so often. The tray of food came while Bobby was still out in the hall. Craig watched while the tray was set up in front of him. He frowned at the bowl of chicken noodle soup with very little chicken and two noodles, a small dish of apple sauce and a cup of red Jell-O. He picked up the spoon and started on the soup. He really didn't want it, and he wasn't feeling hungry, but he didn't want to worry Bobby any more, and he sure didn't want the man yelling at him for not eating. He made a face as the barely warm liquid hit his tongue. It didn't have much flavor to it, but he kept working on it. He changed over to the apple sauce when the soup was half gone. It too seemed to be lacking flavor. He had switched over to the Jell-O by the time Bobby walked back into the room.

Craig glanced up at the man, trying to keep his distress over his food hidden.

Bobby looked at the tray and made a face. "That's it? They wanted you to wake up for that?" He shook his head. "Hold on." He turned and walked back out of the room; right back to the nurse he'd just spent so much time talking to. Craig could see him pointing towards his room once as he spoke. Several minutes later he disappeared from Craig's view. Craig continued working on his Jell-O. He finished it and went back to the apple sauce. Bobby walked into the room as Craig was cleaning out the apple sauce. When the boy looked up he was surprised to see his brother carrying another tray. Bobby pulled the first tray out of the way and set the second one down. "It's not much, but I've been told it's a damn sight better than this shit."

Craig looked at the bowl of beef and noodles, with actual noodles and beef. There were some mashed potatoes in a small dish with some brown gravy. Craig started eating what Bobby had brought for him and found it was much more appealing. He ate it all, knowing Bobby was watching him. Bobby went back to his story about the police questioning while Craig ate. All the time, the boy was wondering why Bobby wasn't with Jack, making sure he was okay.

Craig filled up quickly on the beef and noodles. He at a little of the potatoes before pushing back the tray. Bobby was still talking about the police station at that time.

"Bobby, wasn't Angel supposed to call down here?" Craig asked quietly, interrupting his brother's story again.

Bobby stared at the boy. "Craig, what is going on with you?" Bobby asked. "I'm telling you a perfectly good story here and you don't seem the least bit interested."

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, I guess I'm just curious about Jack." He muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Yeah, me too." He admitted. "I guess that's why I'm talking so much."

"You can go back up to his room. I'm fine." Craig muttered. "If I need anything I can ask the nurse."

Bobby seemed to be contemplating whether he should go check on Jack or not. He looked torn, and Craig hated the thought that he was causing any problems right then. "You sure you're gonna be okay for a few minutes?" Bobby asked. "I'll be right back, or Angel will come back down."

Craig shook his head. "I said I'm fine." He muttered. "Jack needs you with him."

Bobby nodded his head. "I'll tell the nurse to call up there when they take that needle out of your arm. You should be clear to go home then."

Craig nodded his head and watched Bobby walk out of the room, thankful that he could finally have some time to sort out his own memories and feelings.


	40. Chapter 40

As always, thanks for reading! And thanks for the nice words.

Legal stuff still applies...

**_Chapter 40: Going Where?_**

Craig felt a pang in his chest as Bobby left the room. He wanted him to leave, and yet a part of him wanted him to stay. He didn't really want to be alone, but he needed some time to think, and he couldn't do that with Bobby there. Actually he couldn't block out the past couple of days, and he couldn't stand the thought of facing them. His brothers couldn't make any of it go away, so he had to do it on his own, like he did when he was little. It had been so easy to block out the bad stuff when he was smaller, it was harder now, and he didn't understand why. Maybe it was because he hadn't had to use that particular survival mechanism for a longtime. Evelyn Mercer coming into his life had removed any need for having to turn off memories in his brain.

The nurse returned to his room ten minutes after Bobby left, ready to remove the I.V. that had been dripping into his arm. He was thankful for that. The thought of having a needle stuck in him made his stomach roll, and watching it as it was slid out helped to remove that sick feeling. Once the I.V. was gone, the nurse offered him the chance to go to the restroom, and he grabbed that opportunity with pleasure, not realizing how badly he needed to go. His foot was throbbing, but he purposely avoided looking down at it. He didn't want to remember why, or acknowledge the reason why his foot would hurt. He knew, deep down of course, the reason for the pain, and what had happened, but if he thought about it, or dwelled on it, he wouldn't be able to handle it. If he put that wall up around his memories, and fought to keep control of them, then he would be fine. He was tired of feeling vulnerable, like a small child so much of the time. He had leaned on his brothers too much lately; he had to stop depending on them, on Bobby, so much. He'd wanted to be included so badly that he'd let himself lose control over his own emotions. He'd let them control what he was thinking and feeling, and it had to stop, even if he did like feeling closer to his brothers. He was letting himself get too attached, and he had to pull back.

He'd been attached to his mother, his real mother, and she'd died. He'd been attached to Evelyn, his adopted mother, and she'd died. He'd let himself get attached to his brothers, and Jack had been shot and from the sound of it almost died. He didn't know if he could handle another person in his life dying. That was why he'd been feeling so guilty. He couldn't let himself feel that need for his brothers. Any one in his life that he loved or needed seemed to die, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault. If he hadn't told them about Stanley, or his father, it wouldn't have been so easy let his self fell closer to them. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his mouth shut and let them do what they needed to do and he could have stayed out of it. He should have had better control over his emotions, and he should have taken more care with his actions. He shouldn't have let his emotions think for him when he went for that walk when he knew deep down he wasn't supposed to leave. He shouldn't have let his emotions talk for him when he'd told Bobby he wasn't his brother. If he hadn't said that to Bobby he never would have been with his brothers through any of their exploits that past week, and he wouldn't have let the walls down so easily. The longer he was around them, the harder it was to keep his defenses up and he had to put a stop to that.

If he'd kept his guard up like he should have he wouldn't have been with his brothers at the store, being drawn back into his memories of the night Evelyn had died. If that hadn't happened, Bobby probably never would have seen the video, and he wouldn't have lost control and had his little melt down. He would have been in control of his memories, but his brothers had thrown his control completely off balance. It was from that point on that he'd been so dependent on being close to Bobby. He had to regain that control, and he was going to. He couldn't let his brothers baby him anymore. He had to keep himself detached from them in order to keep himself safe.

His mind was pondering over all of this while the nurse walked him slowly to the small restroom at the end of his room, instructing him to pee in the container that was hanging on the inside of the commode. He was thankful that she was next to him as he stepped awkwardly across the floor, but he wasn't giving her his full attention. She let him close the door for privacy and he was able to do what he needed. When he was finished she helped him walk back to his bed. She instructed him to put the weight on the left heel of his foot, telling him that it would make it easier to walk. She told him he would be okay to go to the restroom on his own, but to take it slow. She promised him that she would get him something for the pain as well, to make it easier for him to walk, and then pulled gloves out of her pocket and went to retrieve the container from the toilet. She left with his pee, but came back ten minutes later and handed him a small paper cup with a pill in it, and a plastic cup with water.

Craig was thankful for something that would ease the throbbing in his foot. His trip to the restroom had aggravated it. He had barely had time to lie back in his bed when Jerry appeared in the doorway carrying a paper bag.

"Well, it's good to see you awake." Jerry smiled as he walked in. "You look good, you look real good."

Craig fought down the disappointment he was feeling at having Jerry there. "Thanks." He muttered the words, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt at having his alone time interrupted.

"Where are Bobby and Angel?" Jerry pulled off his coat and walked over to lay it over the back. He set the bag in the set of the chair.

"They went to Jack's room." Craig explained as quickly as he could to Jerry that they had gone up to check on him because the breathing tube had been removed.

"They both left you alone?" Jerry shook his head.

"It's okay, I told Bobby to go on up after Angel had already left. I'm fine." Craig spoke quietly. "You can go up and see him. I'm sure he'd like to see you too." He added his last words carefully, not wanting Jerry to think he wanted him to leave, though he did.

Jerry nodded his head. "I will, as soon as I find out from someone what's going on with you." He grinned. "Have they said if you are going to be able to go home today?"

Craig shook his head. "They keep talking about 'ifs' and 'maybes'." He answered. "Bobby talked to the nurse, but no one said anything to me."

Jerry reached out to take a hold of the boy's hand, and Craig pulled it out of reach before the contact could be made. He used it to rub at his eyes, hoping Jerry wouldn't realize he'd pulled away intentionally. Jerry still smiled. "Have you eaten anything?"

Craig nodded his head. "Yeah, they brought me a tray and then Bobby went and got me something better." He informed.

"Good." Jerry nodded his head. "I was thinking that since the house is need of some work, and Jack's gonna be in the hospital for a little bit, that when they let you come home, you might want to come home to my house for a few days. What do you think?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders, "I guess." He muttered. He had been looking forward to going home, and being able to go to his own room and close out the rest of the world, but he wasn't about to say that to Jerry.

"It was Camille's idea really; she thought you could stay in the guest room. You were comfortable in the guest room, right? You can kick back and relax, watch some T.V., or some movies. We'll keep the girls out of your way." Jerry was sounding excited about the idea and kept talking about how much fun it would be for him to be there.

Craig really couldn't tell Jerry he didn't want to go to his house now; the man seemed to want him there. As he listened to Jerry talk about it, he started to think about his brother's words. The house was in need of work. He swallowed back at the tension that was building up in his stomach. "Jerry, what's wrong with the house?" He asked quietly.

Jerry stopped his rambling about Craig staying with him, and bit on his lip for a moment before speaking. "Well, there was some damage done the other day. We're gonna have to replace some windows, and we're gonna have to do some work on the drywall, and some trim." He spoke slowly, as if he were trying to explain it without going into detail. "We need to replace the bricks on the front porch."

A picture of the house flashed in Craig's mind, and he held onto that picture for a long moment before he let the image of the bullet's hitting the brick and glass follow. He nodded his head before Jerry could go on, letting his brother know he understood.

Jerry drew in a deep breath, "With the windows gone, that house is pretty cold. You really need to stay warm, so it would probably be best if you are at my house until that's taken care of." He was still trying to explain.

"Yeah, I got it." Craig muttered.

Jerry stared at him as if he were thinking. "You know, I got that big ass T.V., and Bobby won't be around twenty four hours a day to flip the stations around on you." He grinned.

"What's that?" Bobby's voice at the door drew the attention of both Craig and Jerry.

Jerry drew in a deep breath, "Well, Camille had this idea that Craig could come and stay at our house until we can get Mom's house fixed up." He announced. "He can sleep in the guest room, and have run of the T.V. while he's healing up."

"No." Bobby walked into the room, looking at Craig. "They took the I.V. out." He commented.

"What do you mean no?" Jerry asked, pulling Bobby's gaze back to him.

"No. What do you think no means Jerr'? It means no." Bobby shook his head. "He's stayin' with me, at Ma's house. The upstairs is warm; I can set him up in Ma's room. I'll even get him a fucking T.V. if he wants one in there, but he ain't staying away from home."

"And who's gonna take care of him while we're working on the house?" Jerry challenged.

"He's fourteen fucking years old; I don't think he needs to be babysat." Bobby turned and looked at Craig. "Do you?"

Craig shook his head slowly. He hated the two of them arguing, especially about him.

"He wants to stay at my house man, what the hell is wrong with him stayin' there one week, to give him a chance to heal up?" Jerry was getting frustrated, but he was trying to remain calm. "Think Bobby. He don't need to see that house in the shape it's in right now, does he? I'm his brother too man, let me help."

Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it without making a sound. "I'll think about it. We can talk about it later, in private." He spoke to Jerry with a flat tone to his voice.

"Fine, think about it. Think about what would be best for the kid though, not what the hell you want." Jerry turned and looked at Craig. "I had this in my car." He picked the paper bag up off of the chair. "Apparently Bobby and Angel put it in the bag when they were getting some things together, for when you were found." He glanced at Bobby and pulled Craig's sketchbook out of the bag and rested it on the bed next to the boy. "I found it in the car this morning and I thought you might want it." His tone lost the sound of frustration it had picked up while talking to Bobby. He pulled a pencil out of the bag and handed it to Craig.

"Thanks," Craig muttered, wondering why his brothers had taken his sketch pad from his room. For a moment he was afraid that they might have looked in it, but he wasn't about to ask.

There was some tense silence in the room for what seemed a very long minute, before Bobby spoke. "So, you want to come up and see Jack? They took that tube out and he makes funny noises when he talks." Bobby looked at Jerry, grinning at him as if in an attempt to switch the conversation.

Jerry looked at Bobby. "Well of course I want to see him, but what about Craig. You gonna stay down here with him?"

Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but Craig jumped in, seeing the opportunity. "I'm fine. I don't need to be babysat." He purposely used Bobby's own words. "Besides, I gotta go to the bathroom, and I think I'm gonna be in there for a while. You really want to stick around for that?" He looked at Bobby, who simply held his hand out towards Craig and looked at Jerry as if to say, 'told you so'.

Jerry opened his mouth to say something, but closed it.

"You heard him, he plans on taking a big shit, now let's go." Bobby motioned towards the door next. "We can talk on the way up to see Jack."

Jerry picked his coat up, but then dropped it again. "Okay, but I'll be back soon. I came here to see both of my little brothers."

Craig watched as Bobby led Jeremiah out of the room. He felt instant relief that they were both gone. Jerry's comment about the house needing work hadn't helped his state of mind at the moment. He was trying hard to keep his emotions in check, and thinking about what had been done to the house on the day that Jack was shot didn't help matters in the least. His mind was now trying to work on the image of the house, full of bullet holes. If there were bullets in the drywall, then surely there had been damage to items on the wall too. His mother's possessions had been shot up, just like the house, and he didn't want to think about losing any more of his mother. He'd already lost her, and now it seemed that the things that she left behind were destroyed as well, and those were the things that mattered most to him. They were a connection to her, and he couldn't stand the thought of going home to see part of her missing.

He looked at the open door of his room and could see that Bobby and Jerry had stopped out in the hall, talking to his nurse. He figured he'd better head for the restroom before one of them looked back at him and wondered about him still lying in the bed instead of doing what he'd said he needed to. He did feel as if he needed to go, but it wasn't as major a need as he had let on. He was careful of each step he placed on his left foot, and moved slow, just as the nurse had told him to. He sat on the toilet for a few minutes, truly feeling as if he needed to go, but very little happened. He finally gave up, wiped, and stood. He reached down to flush, and noticed blood in the bowl. He flushed it quickly and tried to reason his own worry away. He'd had blood before, when he was little, when he still lived with his real parents. It always went away. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. Of course he knew the reason for the blood, and he knew that he shouldn't flush it away, he should go call his nurse and let her know, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. He told himself it would go away, he just had to give it some time.

He stood at the sink and turned on the water so that he could wash his hands. He looked into the mirror for the first time and was surprised at what he seen. His cheek had been stitched up, and there was clear tape over the stitches, but no real bandage. His eyes looked dark, and sunken in. There were bruises on both of his cheeks, but he wasn't sure exactly where they had come from. He fingered the bruises around his throat, and then looked at his wrists for the first time. There were welts encasing each wrist, looking ugly and red in the center where something had cut into them and blue and purple around the edges, bruises that looked like finger marks spotted his arms in various areas. He looked down at his ankles to see the same welts; his skin looked red and raw around each leg where the tape had been wrapped around them. His knees held the welts, and rug burns. Bruises marked his legs as well, but they looked bigger and were a different shade of purple. He felt his body starting to shiver as he slowly raised his hospital gown to look at his stomach. The boot impression he found himself looking at sent a wave of weakness though him. He thought for a moment his knees might give out. He drew in several deep breaths and pulled the gown further up. The bruise on his collar bone was a perfect black and blue circle it seemed, darker in color in the center, where it was obvious a needle had been stabbed into him, and getting lighter, turning a sickly looking yellow around the edges. It was about the size of a half dollar. He turned, careful of his left foot, and looked as best as he could at the bruises on his back. He avoided looking at his butt; he didn't need to see what it looked like. He knew by what he was feeling what it was going to look like.

What was amazing was that most of his body didn't seem to hurt. He realized that he'd probably been given something for the pain in his I.V., and the nurse had given him a pill just a few minutes before Jerry showed up. He stared at his body for a long moment before pulling the thin gown down and washing his hands. He drew in several deep breaths before opening the door and heading back to his bed. His emotions were quickly stirring around on him now. He felt angry that someone had touched him like that, and hurt him. He felt fear, though he knew Victor Sweet was dead. The more he felt the attention those feelings were commanding from his brain. His brain was trying to bring all that had happened to back to him, and he had to struggle with holding it in. He was back in the bed when the nurse walked into the room.

"How would you like to get cleaned up?" She asked.

Craig felt a little weaker at that moment than he had earlier. He'd just walked from the restroom, and it amazed him how easily that had drained him. He didn't have a chance to ask if it could wait a few minutes before the woman spoke.

"I'll get you a basin of water and you can wash right there in your bed." She announced.

Five minutes later Craig was feeling more energy, and the nurse had everything he needed to wash himself. He was seated on a towel on the edge of the bed; another towel was laid out on the floor below him. He had a basin of warm water on the stand and a small bar of soap and washcloth. There was another towel for him to dry off with, and a clean gown for him to put on. He was told to hit his call button when he was finished, and at that time she would come in and wash his hair. Craig did everything he'd been told to do. He took his time washing. Once he was dried off and dressed he called the nurse, just as she had told him. She emptied the basin of water and returned with fresh. She used another wash rag for his hair, and she told him the shampoo was special, that it didn't need much water to rinse it out.

Once the bathing supplies were taken away the nurse started applying a cream to the welts around the boy's wrists, ankles and knees. She talked to him the whole time. Her name was Eddie, short for Edna. She had a son, but he was only four years old. She was a single mother, and her mother watched her son while she worked.

Craig really didn't want to hear about Eddie's life, but she was talking about it nonstop. He decided that it was better than thinking about his own life at that point though. He thought that Eddie seemed like a nice lady, and she seemed to be a good mom from the way she talked about her little boy. He felt that yearning for his own Mom. Evelyn. He wanted her to be there with him, being the one who was holding his hand, and telling him it was going to be okay. He wanted to feel her touch and hear her voice and know that his life was going to get better. But she wasn't there, and she would never be there again.

By the time Eddie was done, Craig was feeling drained both mentally and physically. "Now, we just need to check your numbers again, and if all looks good, you can go home." Eddie smiled at him.

Craig gave the woman a small smile. He wasn't looking forward to leaving the hospital. He wasn't sure if he would be going home to his own home, or to Jerry's house. He wanted to go home, to the only house that had ever felt like home, and at the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see the house tore up, as Jerry had indicated it was.

Twenty minutes later Bobby and Jerry were walking into his room, with a man that seemed to be a doctor. Bobby was holding papers in his hands, and was talking to the man quietly. It occurred to Craig that he must the doctor that had been in charge of him, though he couldn't remember seeing him before then. The man looked at him and smiled and announced that his brothers could take him home. He sounded cheerful, and seemed nice enough, but Craig felt uncomfortable with him being in the room. The man was starting to feel familiar, and his mind was placing him in the emergency room when he'd first come in. He was one of the people who had examined him. He felt his muscles go weak on him and he stayed quiet.

Bobby closed the door once the doctor walked out of the room and walked over to the stand next to the bed. He pulled out the clothes Craig had been wearing the night he'd come in and laid them on the bed. "Let's get you dressed so we can get you out of here." He looked at the boy. "You are ready to get the hell out of here, aren't you?" He gave Craig a smile."

Craig nodded his head, and started to stand.

"Where are you going?" Bobby pushed him back onto the bed.

"To the rest room, to get dressed," Craig answered.

"You can dress right here." Bobby sounded surprised by the words. "Ain't anybody else in the room but us," He pointed to Jerry. "Now get dressed."

Craig wanted to dress in private, but the look on Bobby's face stopped him from arguing. He dressed slowly, trying to hold his clothes so the bruises wouldn't show.

Bobby opened the door once Craig was dressed, and minutes later an orderly walked in pushing a wheel chair. Craig didn't try to argue about having to be wheeled out, he was sure there was no way he could walk on his own. He held onto his sketch pad and pencil as he got into the chair.

Jerry went on ahead, to pull his car around to the door. Bobby talked the whole trip through the hospital, telling him how Jack was doing. He said that Jack had asked about him, and said to tell him he loved him. Craig didn't return any comments, he just rode in the chair as dread seemed to seep into his various range of emotions. He was dreading going where ever he went, whether it was home, or to Jerry's house.

Bobby helped him get into the back of Jerry's car, and put the seatbelt on him. "I'm staying here with Jack. Jerry is gonna take you to his house. It might be better if you stay there for a couple of days. I'll be by tonight though, to check in you. Okay?" Bobby spoke quietly as he stood in the open door.

Craig looked up at Bobby and nodded his head.

"What?" Bobby spoke a little louder.

"Okay." Craig muttered.

"I love you. You behave for Camille, and keep yourself out of trouble." Bobby leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead before stepping back and closing the car door.

Jerry stood outside of the car for few minutes, talking to Bobby. Bobby finally walked away, and Jerry got into the driver's seat. "Are you ready?" He turned and looked at Craig, a grin on his face.

Craig watched Bobby walking back into the hospital, wishing he was going with them, ignoring Jerry.

"He'll be around so much you won't even know you're at my house. I promise." Jerry spoke with an understanding voice.

Craig looked at Jerry, finally, and nodded his head.


	41. Chapter 41

Legal stuff still counts...

Let me know what you think, I know this seems to just keep going, but I do have an ending planned out!

* * *

**_Chapter 41: Control_**

Jerry talked the whole ride to his house. Craig stared out the window, letting his mind wonder off into his own little world, hearing very little of what his brother was saying. He thought that maybe he had finally managed to acquire the numbness that he'd been fight so hard to reach since Bobby had made him wake up. The emotions that kept struggling to surface were subsiding, and he wasn't feeling anything at that point. He thought that maybe going to stay at Jerry's was probably the best decision his brothers had made for him. He would be able to hide from all of the bad memories much easier that way. He could play with Daniela and Amelia, and forget about everything else. He had always enjoyed lying on the floor with them. They seemed to enjoy it too. He refused to play with dolls, but board games were good. Of course, he didn't think that he'd be able to do much as far as playing with his nieces that day, he was feeling a little tired, and parts of his body were starting to stiffen up, and ache.

Jerry pulled the car into the garage, and turned and looked at Craig. "Bobby is going to bring some clothes over for you later when he stops by." He turned off the engine and closed the garage door before opening his own door. Craig opened his door and started to get out.

"Woe, woe," Jerry spoke loud. "You wait for me, don't you be trying to get out on your own." He walked around the car and helped Craig stand.

Camille opened the door that led into the kitchen at that moment. "Hello Craig." She held the door open as Jerry held onto Craig's arm and walked him slowly to the step.

Once Craig was inside he looked up at his sister in law. "Hi." He tired to sound happy to be there, but although he wasn't unhappy about it, he wasn't exactly happy.

"Your room is ready for you. But you can sit in the family room for now, until dinner is ready. The girls have been told that you got a booboo, and they are going to be very gentle and quiet for you." She looked past Craig to the two little girls standing in the walkway to the family room. "Isn't that right girls?"

Craig turned and looked at the girls. They were both smiling at him. "We're gonna take care of you." Daniela spoke first.

"And make your booboo better." Amelia started jumping up and down. "All better."

"Now babies, didn't Daddy say that Craig had to have plenty of peace and quiet?" Jerry walked over to his daughters and scooped them both up into his arms, causing a long string of giggles to come from each of them.

"But we're gonna make Uncle Craig all better." Amelia finally managed to speak as Jerry set them back down on the floor.

"Maybe you can do your part later. Right now, I think Uncle Craig needs to lie back on the couch and relax. You two can go in the other room and play until dinner." He waited until the girls had run towards the living room before turning to Craig. "You look like you're about to drop. Come on." He came back to take a hold of the boy's arm and then walked him to the family room.

Craig was thankful to be on the couch. His body was starting to hurt more intensely than it had earlier. He let Jerry stuff throw pillows behind him and help him turn and lift his legs up onto the couch. Jerry looked at the sketch pad Craig was still holding in his hands. "You think you can let go of that for a little while? If you fall asleep with it I can't guarantee your nieces won't find it and decide to scribble in it." He laughed. "I can put it up in your room where it will be safe."

Craig relinquished his pad and pencil Jerry, though it did make him feel better to have the book with him. Jerry turned on the T.V. and then gave Craig the remote. "You want anything to drink?"

Craig shook his head.

"We got milk and juice, and some soda if you'd like one." Jerry offered.

Craig shook his head again.

"Well I hope you're hungry. I'm making some fried chicken." Camille spoke from the doorway. "I know that's your favorite."

Craig forced a small smile. "It sounds good." He barely got the words out.

"You okay?" Jerry asked.

"Just starting to hurt in some places that weren't hurting before," Craig muttered.

"Bobby's supposed to be bringing your prescriptions when he brings your clothes. If you need anything before that, you can have some aspirin." Jerry offered.

Craig shook his head. "I'm okay." He wasn't sure he liked this side of Jerry. He was hovering way too much. He hadn't hovered like this the week before, when Craig had stayed after the shooting. In fact, the boy had pretty much been left alone that week. He had been expecting the same thing this time, but Jerry was just standing there now, looking at him. "Really, Jeremiah, I'm fine." He looked up at the man.

"You'll speak up if you need the aspirin, right?" Jerry moved to grab the pillow from the chair in the corner. He returned quickly and carefully lifted Craig's left foot, placing the pillow under it. "The doctor said to keep it elevated." He stood there, looking at the boy, and not saying anything.

"Jeremiah," Camille spoke from where she was still standing at the doorway.

Jerry turned and looked at his wife. "Yeah baby?" He asked.

"I think you can step back from him now and let him have some room to breathe." Camille smiled.

Craig couldn't help but smile at Camille.

Jerry looked back at Craig. "Oh, right. I'm sorry; I just want to make sure you're comfortable. I'll put your sketch pad up in your room, and then I'm gonna go help my wife with dinner. You can watch whatever you want to on the television. Just don't get anything on there that we wouldn't want the girls to see?" He turned and walked over to Camille, who grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen.

Craig looked at the television to find the evening news was on. He didn't want to watch the news. He started flipping the channels, and soon found himself back where he started. He continued to hit the up button on the channel select of the remote.

"Oh my God, he done got to you." Jerry spoke from the doorway.

Craig looked over, not understanding what Jerry was getting at.

"Just find one station and leave it there or you will drive me crazy. It's bad enough that one brother does that, I sure as hell don't need two of you doin' it." Jerry looked truly stressed.

"Jeremiah, language," Camille called from the kitchen.

"Sorry dear." Jerry turned and walked back to the kitchen.

Craig found an old sit-com re-run on and let the remote drop on the couch next to him. He felt was starting to feel cold, though he knew Jerry's house was good and warm. He tried to adjust a few muscles to get comfortable, and rested his head to his left, to rest against the back of the couch. He let his eyes close, and absentmindedly pulled his arms around his stomach, hugging himself, trying to warm up a little. He listened to the sound of the television until the voices emitting from it started to bend and twist into other sounds. He wasn't sure exactly what he was hearing, but it was getting fainter by the second. He felt himself slip into a light sleep, and didn't fight it. When he woke there was a blanket covering him, and he was no longer half sitting, he was lying, with some of the pillows removed from behind him. The television was no longer on, but there were sounds of voices floating in from other areas of the house.

Craig pushed the blanket away, and started to sit up, the pain in his arms and legs screamed out at him. His stomach was throbbing, as was his back. He felt sweat break out across his forehead instantly. He rested back and decided to wait until the pain settled before trying again.

"You're awake." Jerry spoke from the doorway. "Do you want to eat?"

Craig shook his head slowly. "Can I just go to bed?" He asked.

Concern crossed Jerry's face. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm just not real comfortable." Craig lied. He didn't want to eat, he wasn't hungry. "I need to use the restroom." He added for good measure.

Jerry nodded his head. "We saved you some chicken. You're sure you don't want any?"

Craig shook his head. "Not right now. Maybe later," He made an attempt to stretch his body, hoping that would help to ease the pain out of his arms and legs. The only thing that accomplished was the limbs attacking back with more pain, and he wasn't able to hold the pain in. He stopped stretching as he was sure his face reflected the pain he was feeling.

"You need something for that pain." Jerry sighed. "Okay, come on, I'll take you up to the restroom, then get you into your bed, and then I'll call Bobby and find out when he's gonna get here." He walked over and gently took hold of the boy's arm, pulling him up from the couch.

Craig swallowed back at the tears that were trying to sting at his eyes. The effort it took to walk across the room was almost more than he could tolerate. His legs were growing weak, and he was sure he would fall if he didn't sit down quickly. He grabbed hold of Jerry as they reached the kitchen doorway. "I gotta stop." He felt the quake in his voice, and mentally kicked at himself for being so weak. He was trying to stop being so dependent on his brothers, but here was, letting himself get into a situation that he had to grab hold of Jerry; wanting Jerry to take care of him actually. The fear rose in him as his body acted against him in such a painful manner. His brother wouldn't leave him alone for a second now, and he needed the time to himself to escape the past week of his life.

Jerry held him up on his feet long enough to pull him over to the nearest kitchen chair. "Okay, okay." He made sure Craig was sitting steady before letting go of him. "I'm calling Bobby now, and finding out when he can get here." He walked over to the phone and picked it up.

"I just need a minute Jerry." Craig muttered.

"You just about fell on your ass; don't tell me you just need a minute." Jerry spoke calmly, but he dialed a number quickly and then held the receiver up to his ear. "Angel, where is Bobby?" He asked. "It's after seven, man, Craig need's his pain pill." He glanced at the boy for a moment and turned away. "How long ago did he leave?"

There was a long pause and Jerry looked back at Craig. "Well if you hear from him tell him to call me?" He asked. A few moments later he hung up the phone. He looked at Craig. "He left the hospital about half an hour ago." He announced. "He's probably just now at the house. I'll call there once I get you up to the restroom." He walked over and leaned down. "Grab my neck." He instructed.

"You don't need to carry me." Craig argued, not wanting to be carried like a small child.

"How do you expect to get anywhere if I don't?" Jerry slid an arm under the boy's knees and one at the small of his back. "Now grab hold like I told you." He was using a tone similar to the one Bobby had been using on him, and it irritated the boy a little. He grabbed hold of Jerry, not having the energy to continue arguing. He let the man lift him and carry him through the house. Camille was sitting on the living room floor with the girls, playing some sort of game. She looked up as Jerry walked through the room.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, he just needs to go upstairs." Jerry kept his voice calm as he started up the steps. "If Bobby comes, send him up with Craig's pills?" He didn't wait for an answer, he kept on walking.

Jerry carried Craig into the restroom and carefully let him down on the floor. "Okay, let's get this done so you can go lay down in the bed." He started to help Craig pull down the pants he was wearing.

"Jerry, I can do this." Craig pushed Jerry's hands away. "Do you mind?"

Jerry looked at him for a long moment. "Okay." He nodded his head. "I'll be right outside that door, so if you need me you yell." He hesitated before he walked out the door, closing it after him.

Craig let out a long breath. His legs felt shaky, and yes, his body hurt just as badly as it had downstairs, but he couldn't let his brothers do everything for him. He'd spent seven years as a Mercer without his brothers taking care of him. He was old enough to take care of himself, and he had to stop reaching out to them, and letting them take control for him. He had to be strong enough to push them back, before he got too comfortable with them.

He pulled down the sweat pants and sat down slowly on the commode, it was easier that way. After he peed, he felt the need for the other. It hurt, and although he was trying, he couldn't accomplish anything. He gave it several minutes, and would have given it a little longer, but Jerry opened the door and looked in.

Craig looked at Jerry. "You have got to be kidding me." He looked at the man.

"Just checking, that's all." Jerry pulled back and closed the door again.

Craig gave up on what he was doing, but wiped himself to be safe. He wasn't surprised to find the blood, just as he had earlier. He wiped several times, and stood slowly as he pulled up his sweat pants. He checked the toilet, and was relieved that there seemed to be less blood this time than last time, he thought. He flushed the toilet and hobbled slowly to the door. He pulled it open, startling Jeremiah, who was standing right there.

Jerry gave him an irritated look. "You don't need to be walking by yourself. I told you that before." He looked as if he were about to pick the boy up again.

"Jerry, I don't need you to carry me." Craig held his hand up quickly.

"You nearly passed out downstairs." Jerry shook his head. "I ain't gonna take a chance on…"

"I only needed a few minutes, I told you that." Craig knew he sounded irritated. "Jesus, just let me be." His voice rose slightly.

Jerry looked surprised by the boy's words. "What?"

"Why doesn't anyone listen to me when I tell them how I feel?" Craig asked. "I can walk just fine on my own." He knew he had used the wrong tone of voice as soon as he'd spoken the words. Jerry's eyes took on the same look that Bobby's did when he was getting pissed.

"Child, you are in my home, and you will do what I say, whether you like it or not. Now you say you can walk? Fine, walk, but I'm gonna walk with you, and I'm gonna hold onto your arm, and if you fall I'm going to catch you. Now you might be hurting, and you might be feeling bad, but don't you ever talk to me with that tone of voice again, or no matter how bad you feel, I'll wash your mouth out with soap." Jerry's voice was quiet, but tense. "Screw an ass whooping, I'll make you eat so much soap you'll taste it for a month."

Craig swallowed back at the guilt that was building up inside of him. He opened his mouth to apologize, but stopped himself.

Jerry grabbed hold of the boy's arm and walked him to the guest room. He started lecturing the boy how he needed to let his brothers help him, and how they all loved him, and would do anything for him, but he couldn't talk to them like that, and he wouldn't put up with it, and he was sure Bobby wouldn't put up with it. He went onto to talk about how they had all been through hell the past week, and acting out wouldn't help. "You have to talk to us about what you are feeling Craig. You feel like yelling and getting mouthy, then there's something else stirring deep inside, we know that now, and you know it too, so you need to let us help. Once you have had a chance to get settled in here, I think you and I need to sit down and have a brotherly heart to heart."

Craig only heard part of what Jerry was rambling on about. He let his mind drift back to the task of driving down the memories that Jerry so casually brought back to the front of his mind with his speech. He knew Jerry was right; he did tend to get mouthy when he was battling the conflict inside his mind. He made a mental note to be more careful. He would have to figure out how to talk his way out of letting them get too close, he couldn't let his frustration lead him to losing control, because that would be when his brothers would start pushing him harder to talk to them.

Jerry eased him down onto the bed and started pulling the blankets down for him. "I'll bring some food up for you, and you damn well better eat it." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door open after him.

Craig let a long breath that he had been holding in. He knew Jerry was pissed, and as he laid back into the pillow he reasoned that if he didn't apologize that the man would tell Bobby, and then they would decide to push him to talk to them about the very things he was trying to keep out of his head. He spent the next ten minutes blocking out the pictures and feelings that tried to flash into his mind. The pictures his mother being shot, of the house being shot up, and the feelings of someone putting their hands in places that they didn't need to be, the feeling of hot breath against his face, but only blackness in front of his eyes. It was all fighting hard to surface, and he couldn't let it. He couldn't handle it if he let it take control again.

Jerry brought his food back up to him, and to Craig's relief it wasn't much, just a chicken leg, coleslaw, baked beans and a glass of milk. Craig watched Jerry put the plate and glass down on the stand next to his bed, and then pull a chair over and sit down. "Sit up and eat." The man ordered.

Craig sat up slowly. "Jerry, I don't really feel hungry right now." He muttered. "Can't I wait until after I have my pill? My whole body hurts."

Jerry drew in a deep breath. "Bobby should be here in fifteen minutes. You have to have something on your stomach before you take the pill, so come on now, and eat." He sounded calmer than he had when he left the room.

Craig slowly moved down the edge of the bed, closer to the stand. He reached for the plate and looked at Jerry. "I'm sorry, about before. I was just hurting." He muttered, looking back down at his food.

Jerry sighed. "I know you don't feel real good right now. Let's just let it go this time. I won't say anything more about it if you don't." He actually sounded cheerful.

Craig nodded his head. He forced himself to eat on the chicken leg, and most of the baked beans. He ate one bite of the coleslaw and put his fork back down on the plate. "Jerry, I can't eat anymore." He muttered without looking up at the man. "My stomach hurts." He wasn't lying. His bruised stomach was aching badly, as was his back, his legs and his arms, and other areas.

Jerry sat up in his chair. "Okay, I guess that's good enough for tonight, but at least try to drink a little of the milk." He took the plate from the boy.

Craig took a couple of small sips and then set the glass back down on the stand.

"I'm leaving that milk; you can take your pill with that." Jerry stood and carried the plate out of the room.

Craig eased himself back into the bed again, this time with his legs remaining over the edge, his feet resting on the floor. He stared at the ceiling and focused on keeping his mind blank.

He heard the doorbell ring, and was sure it was Bobby, finally arriving with his pain pill. He strained his ears to try to listen for his brother coming up the stairs, but it seemed a lot of time passed before he heard voices on the stairs. Bobby's voice carried above Jerry's but he could hear both men.

Bobby walked into the room. "Here you go kid, sit up." He spoke to the boy.

Craig sat up again, careful of how he moved.

Bobby pulled two pill bottles out of the bag, and waited until the boy was fully sitting before opening the bottle and handing the pills to him.

Once Craig had taken the two pills, Bobby watched him lie in the bed before pulling the covers over him and telling him he'd check on him in the morning. Jerry turned off the lamp on the stand next to the bed, picked up the milk glass, and led Bobby out of the room.

Craig thought it was odd that Bobby hadn't stayed in there with him very long, and he fought down the feeling that was trying to swell up inside of him, that same feeling he'd had for most of his life as one of Evelyn Mercer's sons, the one of not belonging. He didn't understand why it bothered him right then, he wanted to put the distance between him and his brothers, mostly Bobby, but he hadn't thought that Bobby would make it so easy for him. He'd been expecting to have to make more of an effort in keeping his brothers at a safe distance. He had to keep his emotions blocked off, and the memories blocked out, and then the danger of losing anyone else that he cared about would be gone.

The pill made him feel groggy, but the pain was subsiding slowly from his body. He found moving to be much easier, and he was able to get into a position in the bed that was comfortable. He shivered under the blankets though, and pulled them tight around him. He would start to drift off to sleep, but then his mind would start to work up the pictures of everything that had happened in the past week, and he'd force himself to wake up. He could hear Bobby's voice below him from time to time, and his chest would ache. He wanted Bobby close, to make him feel safe, but he knew he couldn't give into the urge to go down the stairs and ask him to stay with him. He had to have more control than that. He had to be stronger than he'd been recently. He couldn't be weak, and needy. He had to control it. He wasn't doing too bad of a job at keeping himself detached from his feelings, he just had to push them back, keep his memories hazy and blank, and stay numb.

Yet every time he closed his eyes his mind tried to betray his efforts. He finally heard the front door below open and close. He stayed in the bed until Jerry came in to check on him an hour later. He kept his eyes closed and prayed Jerry wouldn't come all the way over to the bed to discover he was still awake. He heard the door close after a few moments, and then Jerry's voice on the other side of the wall, in his room with Camille.

It was then that he sat up and turned on the lamp. He reached for his sketch pad and pencil and pulled himself back against the wall, so that the room was in full view of him, and his back wasn't exposed to any empty space, he felt more secure that way. He opened the pad up and was able to go to the first clean page without looking at any of the pictures. He rested the lead of the pencil onto the paper and stared at it. That was all he had ever had to do in the past. He just needed to let his hand start moving. Only for some reason, his hand didn't move. He pulled the lead down the rough paper, purposely, to feel the vibration of the lead tip making contact run through his hand, but still nothing happened. He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He didn't understand it at first, but then he reasoned it out with a logic that he was sure would only make sense to him, and no one else. For the first time in his life he was blocking it all out on purpose. Before it had been something his mind did on its own with no effort at all. His mind would release it to the paper, and then he'd be fine, no memory to fight with. This time, he was fighting it back because it was too hard to deal with, even before it hit the paper, he was trying to erase it, just as his pencil could erase the mistakes on his paper, he was erasing it from his thoughts. It was forced, and it wasn't the way it used to be. He realized that he had a choice. He could let it come back to him, and remember every last detail so that is brain could get it out, or he could continue to hold it in, and not face it in any form at all, not even on paper. He was feeling more confused as he tried to sort it all out and figure out what he needed to do.

He came to the conclusion that if he hadn't been pouring his emotions, his memories out onto paper to begin with, he would have had better control over his action the week before. He wouldn't have let his guard down, and he wouldn't have let himself depend on his brothers for the security that he'd been yearning for. He would have had that control over his actions, and wouldn't have made all the mistakes he'd made.

He finally closed the pad and stared at the cover for a long moment. He wouldn't be able to draw for a while, that was clear to him. He had to deal with the problem of keeping himself safe, and right then, the only way to do that was to go on blocking out the past few days with all the effort he could put into it. He put the pad and pencil back on the stand and then pulled himself back to the wall, keeping his body pressed against it, watching the room for any movement. He drew in a shaky breath, realizing it was going to be a long night.


	42. Chapter 42

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Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't make money...

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**_Chapter 42: Doctor Visit_**

Over the next few days Craig fell into a routine. On Friday he got up in the morning before Jerry or Camille and went to the restroom. There was still blood, but he kept telling himself it would go away. He made sure he was back in his bed before Jerry got up and came in to check on him. He made sure that he was laying in the dark, his eyes closed and his body as relaxed as he could make it. He waited until Jerry had gone to work before getting up and making his way downstairs. Camille gave him breakfast before she loaded the girls up into the car for daycare. He was thankful that part of Camille's routine hadn't changed. He dumped the breakfast down the disposal and cleaned up the plate as soon as she was driving out of the garage. He went to the family room and turned on the television, feeling nervous until Camille returned twenty minutes later. He spent his day on the couch in the living room watching television and napping to catch up on the sleep he'd missed through the night. Camille didn't find it odd that he slept so much through the day, since he was on the pain medication and a strong antibiotic. She gave him his medication when it was time each day, and she'd change the bandage on his foot. She gave him lunch in the family room, but when he didn't eat all of it she didn't seem too concerned since she thought he had eaten breakfast.

Jerry didn't come straight home from work, he went to the hospital to check on Jack and discuss the plans for working on the house with his brothers there. He came home just as Camille was getting dinner on the table, which meant that Craig had to eat his evening meal. Though he did discover that as long as he ate most of what was on his plate not much was said. Jerry filled him in on how Jack was doing and their plans for the house. He needed to contact some people he knew to order some supplies and they were planning on starting on the house the following weekend. After dinner Jerry sat in the living room, making phone calls about supplies for their work at the house, and Craig returned to the family room and watched more T.V. He did his best to block out the rest of the world and stay hidden in his own protected corner of his mind. Bobby and Angel stopped in when they left the hospital; they got there about eight thirty. They spent a few minutes asking him how he was feeling, and how his day went, and he answered them one word responses, and kept the conversation as short as he could keep it, acting like he was interested in the television. They went to the living room to talk to Jerry afterwards and spent more time with him discussing the house. Craig took his pills when Camille brought them to him, and then he went up to his room. No one seemed the least bit concerned that he was going to bed so early, he was supposed to be healing, so they all seemed to take it as a good sign.

The weekend went the same, the only difference was that Camille took the girls to her mother's instead of daycare, and Jerry was gone most of the day both Saturday and Sunday, at Evelyn's house getting some of the work started. Craig managed to piece together that his brothers were taking turns staying with Jack and trading off to do some of the work at the house. No one really told him that, he guessed at it from overheard conversations. Craig was allowed to stay to his self, mostly. He was able to get out of most of his meals because no one was really paying much attention, and although he had wanted that distance, it still caused a panging in his chest. By Sunday, he'd figured out that Bobby and Angel showed up at Jerry's the same time each night, and he made sure he was in bed before they got there, getting his pills from Camille a little early and saying goodnight to her and Jerry.

Bobby came in and sat on his bed while he lay there feigning sleep, and felt his forehead, but he never tried to wake him. Craig waited until he was sure everyone in the house was in bed for the night before turning on his light and sitting back against the wall, watching the room. He was finding that he hated the dark more and more each night. He would start to feel anxious just waiting for his chance to turn on the light and be able to see what was around him.

On Monday morning the routine was changed, with Bobby sitting at the breakfast table drinking coffee with Jerry when Craig walked into the kitchen dressed in oversized sweatpants, t-shirt, a baggy flannel shirt, socks. He'd been washing at the sink each day because of his injured foot, and dressing warm even though he was in the house, because he couldn't stand the thought of being cold. He was a little thrown off balance mentally when he hobbled carefully into the kitchen to find both brothers. He had to be careful of how he stepped on his left foot, and was still walking on his heel, which was starting to get sore from the unusual use.

Bobby looked up at him. "Well good morning 'Hop-A-Long'." He joked, but he stood quickly and pulled a chair out from the table for Craig to sit in.

"What are you doing here?" Craig knew it was the wrong thing to ask even as the words came out. He sounded disappointed to see both men, and even though he was, he didn't want them to realize it. He slid into the chair and stretched his left leg out to keep his toe from hitting anything.

Bobby sat back down in his chair. "What, no, 'good morning Bobby, great to see you, I have barely seen you in a few days'?" Bobby asked the question in his usual loud voice.

"Good morning Bobby, great to see you, haven't seen you in a few days." Craig muttered, not looking at the man. He felt tired, and drained. He rubbed at his eyes and fought down a yawn.

Bobby looked took a drink of his coffee. "You've been sleeping okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I've been sleeping fine." Craig muttered the lie, still not looking at the man. "In fact I could go back upstairs and sleep right now."

Bobby looked at Jerry. "Is that normal? I mean Jack stays awake more than this one." He pointed to Craig as he spoke.

"When I called to schedule his appointment with the doctor I asked about that and they said it was fine. It's probably the pain killer, and his body needs the rest." Jerry looked at Craig. "Camille done left with the girls, so I guess I'm your cook this morning. What do you want?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care." He sat back in his chair.

"You want some eggs?" Jerry headed for the refrigerator.

"Toast would be okay." Craig spoke, not really wanting anything. He knew he couldn't get out of eating something with both Bobby and Jerry right there.

"Toast, well that's easy enough." Jerry turned away from the refrigerator and pulled the toaster out of the cabinet.

Craig looked at Bobby, "Why are you here so early?"

Bobby grinned. "You have a doctor's appointment this morning." He announced.

"I do? Since when do I have a doctor's appointment?" Craig hadn't expected to hear that. The idea that no one would give him a little warning irritated him. Bobby just showed up to take him to the doctor as if he should be ready to go at any moment, no matter what he'd planned on doing that day. Not that he'd planned on doing anything except hide out in the family room and forget the rest of the world existed, but he'd grown to like being able to hide from all of the memories that were trying to haunt him every second of the day. His brothers had spent the weekend mostly ignoring him but they thought he should be ready as soon as they say he's going somewhere. The conflict inside of him was growing slightly. He told himself he couldn't have it both ways. Either he was going to let his defenses down or he was going to keep them up. He shouldn't let it bother him if his brothers had other things to do, in fact it made it easier for him to put the walls up and keep the memories buried. He felt frustrated and confused. What really irritated him, he knew, was that he was going to have to spend time with Bobby and it was going to be harder to keep the walls up, to keep all of the fears and pain buried and out of reach. It was going to be difficult to keep his brothers from pushing him without Bobby being pissed at him, and it was getting harder to keep enough control that he didn't piss any of his brothers off.

"Yeah, you do. You okay with that? Is your schedule full?" Bobby sounded as if he didn't like the tone of voice the boy had used.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Guess I don't have any say over it." He muttered. "Why do I have to go to a stupid doctor?" He didn't mean to sound like an ass, but he did, and he knew it as soon as he'd said the words. He quickly looked at Jerry, watching him put his bread into the toaster.

Bobby's eyebrows rose slightly, and he stared at the boy for a long moment, as if he were surprised by his words. "Excuse me?"

Craig looked at Bobby. "Sorry." He spoke quietly. "I'm just tired."

Bobby's hand reached out and grabbed Craig's shirt sleeve and gave him a slight jerk, pulling him away from the back of his chair and towards him. "They wanted you to go in for a follow up appointment. Now, you got something you want to say?" He asked. "Because I'm all for you speaking your mind, you just need to watch how you fucking speak it. You got that?" He spoke quietly, but his voice was far from the pleasant one he'd been using when Craig first walked into the kitchen. "We are all tired, not just you, and you've done nothing but sleep. We've been working half the night, spending time at the hospital and trying to keep an eye on you too, I think we have enough to deal with, we don't need you to start with a smart ass mouth."

Craig looked at Bobby. "I know, I said I'm sorry," He felt his body flinch at the initial grip and then start to tremble when he spoke, and prayed Bobby didn't feel it under his shirt, since his hand still had a hard hold of the sleeve.

"So you got something you want to say?" Bobby let go of him, but kept his gaze fixed on him.

Craig shook his head slowly. "No." He muttered. Though he couldn't help but think that none of his brothers had been around much since he'd arrived at Jerry's house on Thursday evening, not even Jerry. It was Camille that had been keeping an eye on him, not his brothers. He wasn't going to complain about that though, it had made it much easier for him to hide from the monsters that were lurking around in his mind.

"Good, because we got a lot of shit to deal with, and I don't need you causing more shit." Bobby drew in a deep breath.

"Bobby, he's just tired, like he said." Jerry spoke carefully. "He's still hurting and he's got a lot of shit he's dealing with too."

Bobby looked at Jerry and then looked at Craig. "I know he's got shit he's dealing with Jerr', remember, that's the only reason I let him come here instead of coming home, to keep him from having to deal with seeing the house." Bobby still sounded irritated.

Craig realized Bobby had circles under his eyes and looked as if he hadn't had any sleep himself; the man looked like a mirror image of himself, only the boy thought he looked worse. "I said I was sorry." He muttered. He tried to sound sincere, though he was trying hard not to care about getting Bobby angry. He had to not care; it went with closing off his emotions.

Bobby drew in a deep breath, stood and walked out the garage door, closing it hard after him.

Jerry looked at Craig. "Look, we're all tired, okay? He's beat right now. He was at the hospital last night, and then came here and checked on you, and then he went home and did some work until real late. He ain't had much sleep. Don't let him get to you; he's like a cranky five year old when he's tired." He spoke carefully as the toast popped up.

"I won't." Craig muttered.

Jerry buttered the toast before setting it on the table. He added a glass of milk to the menu, though Craig hadn't asked for it and didn't really want it. "You eat that, and I'll go check on the hard headed brother in the garage." He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Craig watched Jerry walk out and thought that maybe he might have a chance at getting rid of the toast, but he thought twice about it. His brothers could walk back in while he was in the middle of dumping it down the disposal, or worse, they might be able to hear the disposal running from the garage. He took a small bite of the toast and chewed on it slowly. His stomach had grown accustomed to not eating much, and it was going to be hard to force the two slices down, and the milk on top of that. One thing he knew would help was to leave the crust. No one seemed to think twice about him leaving the crust of the toast, and he could leave quite a bit of the toast hanging on the crust. It was a trick he'd used when he was little. Evelyn had caught on pretty quick, and he hadn't tried it with Bobby, but he'd gotten away with it with Camille. It was easier with her; she had two little girls that wouldn't eat their crust, so it seemed normal for her. Evelyn had caught on and started making him four slices of toast when she gave it to him, and he stopped the crust trick real quick.

He fought down the heartache that tried to clench at his chest at the thought of his adopted mother. He pushed it down, and concentrated hard on not feeling the need of his mother's arms around him. He would have to find a way to stop thinking about her and wanting her back. She was dead, he knew that, and she would never be there for him again, and instead of wallowing around in his sorrow, he needed to drive it down. It had been losing her that had sent him into the emotional mess that had ended up being his undoing with letting his brothers get too close. He was realizing now, that for all those years that he was yearning for is brothers to accept him and include him, it was mostly his own actions that had prevented it. Even at the age of seven and eight years old, when he'd tried so hard to please them and get their attention, he had still put that wall up and backed off before any emotional contact could ever be made.

Craig managed to get as much of the toast into his stomach as he dared, and he'd drank most of the milk Jerry had set in front of him, when the door opened and Jerry and Bobby walked in.

"We could do that, yeah, but I'll have to get with some of my engineers to come up with some plausible design Bobby. There can't be no wingin' it." Jerry was speaking.

Bobby looked at Craig and then glanced at his watch. "You done eating yet?" He asked, with a bit of a strain still in his voice.

Craig nodded his head, "Yeah." He kept his voice quiet.

"Good, you need to get at least one shoe on so that we can go." Jerry looked at the boy.

"I need to brush my teeth." Craig stood slowly.

"You do that, but you'd better hurry up, I ain't got all damn day." Bobby walked over and sat down in the same chair he'd vacated just five minutes earlier.

Craig looked at Jerry before walking out of the kitchen. "I haven't had my pills yet." He purposely kept his stare fixed on Jerry, not wanting to look at Bobby right then.

"I'll get them ready; you go do what you need to do." Jerry nodded his head.

Craig was thankful that Jerry was driving them in his car. He didn't think he could handle the whole car ride alone with Bobby. He sat in the back and watched the city move past him. He blocked out the sound of his brothers' voices as they talked about the work they were doing on the house, and what they would need to get done before Jack was released from the hospital.

"Man, those new windows should be in by then. We'll be able to get those boards down and get the windows up in no time. We still need to finish the walls, and we need to get those pictures into new frames." Jerry spoke more than Bobby did on the subject. "You can run the saw, right? You still remember how to operate the machinery." He laughed.

"What, you think I would forget how to handle a sharp object driven by a motor?" Bobby cracked the first real joke Craig had heard from him since he'd walked into the kitchen and seen him sitting at the table. "Please give me a little credit here Jerr'."

His brothers seemed to know exactly where they were going. Craig had no choice but to hobble awkwardly in between his brothers, though Bobby would pick up his stride from time to time, and then have to slow down and wait for him and Jerry to catch up. Jerry kept an easy hold on the boy's arm.

"They better give you some kind of cane, or fucking crutches." Bobby commented as the frustration of moving so slow was starting to get to him. "I don't know why the doctor seemed to think you would be able to walk on your own like this, the dumbass."

Jerry shook his head. "He said he had to learn to use that foot with the top part of the toe gone. He said it wouldn't be easy." He looked at Bobby. "You just calm down. You ain't gonna get him in there any faster by complaining about it."

When they reached the entrance Bobby spotted some wheel chairs setting against the hall and grabbed one. "You're riding the rest of the way, sit your ass down."

Craig happily complied. He felt completely drained by the walk. His left foot was cold despite the fact that he was wearing a sock on it, and having his foot cold had made the rest of him cold. Being cold was one of the things that seemed to stab into his brain; trying to force his acknowledgment for the reason the cold bothered him so much. It didn't used to affect him so quickly or easily, but now he couldn't stand the thought of even feeling a slight chill. The reason why was buried deep inside of him, hidden under his focus to keep his protective wall up and blocking out any chance of being hurt any more.

Jerry pushed the chair, keeping up with Bobby much easier than when Craig was walking.

They were able to go in without waiting, and Jerry helped Bobby sit the boy up on the table before pushing the chair out into the hall.

Bobby and Jerry were both very quiet as they waited for the doctor. Jerry told Craig to take off his coat and grabbed it from him as soon as it was free from his arms. Craig was fighting down his nerves. He didn't want any one poking around on him. He'd had enough needles, and poking and prodding on parts of his body to last him a life time. Though he had driven down the memories from before the hospital, bits and pieces of the emergency room and afterwards was there, floating around in his head. Nothing solid, nothing very detailed, but it was enough that he felt a dread building up inside of him as they waited.

The doctor walked in too soon for the boy, and he felt his heart beat pick up, and his muscles in his chest tensed up.

"Craig, how are you feeling?" The doctor seemed kind of young, and though Craig felt a vague familiarity about him, he didn't really recognize him. He was holding an open file in his hand, reading from it as he closed the door.

"I'm fine." Craig muttered his response, looking down at the floor.

The doctor proceeded to lay the file on the counter, and moved over to check the stitches on Craig's cheek. "Those should come out in about another week. They'll work out on their own." He spoke as he pulled a penlight out of his pocket. "Let's take a look at that throat, shall we? Does it still feel sore?"

Craig shook his head and opened his mouth, letting the doctor look in and down his throat.

"It's still a little red, but I think it's looking much better." He turned off the light, stuck it back into his pocket and proceeded to check Craig's heart beat with a stethoscope against his chest. He moved the cold metal disk to his back and told him to take several deep breaths, which was hard because his back and chest still hurt. He asked him if he'd had any trouble eating or sleeping, and Craig lied and told him 'no'. The doctor walked over to the counter, pulled an ink pen out of the breast pocket of his coat and wrote something down. "You have a little bit of wheezing in your chest. Have you been coughing anything up?" He asked.

Craig shook his head. "No." He spoke quietly. He didn't feel any kind of wheezing in his chest, but he did hurt.

"Take off your shirt and let's take a look at the bruises." The doctor spoke the words carefully, as if he were afraid of Craig's reaction.

Craig slowly unbuttoned the flannel shirt and slid it off. He had purposely avoided letting anyone else see him without a shirt on, so it was hard for him to do now, with two of his brothers standing there looking at him. He was wearing a t-shirt, but the doctor didn't ask him to remove that, only to lift it up for him.

Craig avoided looking at Bobby and Jerry. He lifted his shirt and let the doctor examine the sore bruise on his chest, and the one on his back. He winced when the man decided to press on him, and poke at the tender spots. He could tell the doctor was trying very hard to be as gentle as he could, and the man was warning him before each push, but he couldn't stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, or the tightness in his throat. He gritted his teeth hard to keep from losing control of his emotions. His mind was trying to recall the way his body had been bruised durring his time with Victor Sweet, and he had to struggle with all the mental strength he had to push it back, to make his feelings disappear and fall into the mental numbness that he'd been working so hard to achieve. He couldn't lose that safe feeling of nothingness now; he'd been working too hard to stay there.

The doctor finally stopped and walked back to write in his file on the counter. Next the man checked the welts on the boy's wrists. He seemed pleased with the way they were healing. "Okay, swing your legs up onto the table and let's take a look at your legs." He helped Craig turn and put his legs on the table. "Why don't you lay back and relax?" He offered.

Craig hesitated, but sitting in that position was putting a strain on his chest and back. He eased himself down and felt the doctor pull up the legs of his sweatpants, checking the welts around his knees and then his ankles. He gave Craig a warning before removing the bandage from his foot.

Craig felt pressure on the stump of what used to be his little toe, and cringe at the feeling. Most of the time over the past few days it had felt as if the toe was there, intact, just hurting tremendously. Now, the feeling was odd. The end of his toe was not there, only the bottom part, and the feeling was strange to him. He didn't try to look, if he looked his mind would bring back that memory, and he couldn't think about that now. He hadn't looked at it any of the times Camille had cleaned it and put a fresh bandage on it. He'd rather go on pretending his toe was there. The doctor also pressed on the bottom of his foot, just below the spot where his toe joined the ball of his foot, causing some tingling to travel up to the tip of his little toe, the one that wasn't there. "Can you wiggle your toes for me Craig?" The doctor asked, breaking the boy's concentration on the feeling his toe was emitting to the rest of his body.

Craig wiggled his toes as best as he could, despite the pain that seemed to shoot up his foot.

"Good, that's real good. I know that hurt, but this is healing up better than I'd hoped. Someone has been taking very good care of it." The doctor applied a fresh bandage, and this one wasn't as bulky and heavy as the one before. He moved over to the counter again and wrote some more. "What about going to the restroom Craig? Have you been having any problems with that?" He asked without looking up from the file he was making his notes in.

"No." Craig looked up at the ceiling. He was lying again, and he prayed it didn't show.

"You haven't had any blood in your stool or pain of any kind?" The doctor asked.

"No." Craig repeated the lie, but he felt his voice shaking slightly and he spoke too quickly.

The young doctor looked over at the boy, silent for a moment before he spoke. "You would tell me if there was any blood or pain, wouldn't you?"

Craig looked at the man. "Yeah, I'd tell you." He muttered. He was sure he could feel Bobby's eyes boring into him, but didnt look his way to confirm that.

"Because I know that you are smart enough to know it would probably be nothing serious, but if you've had blood or pain, then it would need to be checked out, because it can be a sign of some problems." The man spoke calmly, but there was a warning in his voice that Craig recognized.

Craig shook his head slowly. "I haven't had any blood or any pain." He spoke with no emotion to his voice, and it sounded odd to him just how steady his voice came out right then.

The doctor looked at Bobby and Jerry. "He hasn't mentioned anything to you?" He asked.

"No, man he's been fine. He goes to the restroom regularly." Jerry answered quickly. "He'd tell us if there was anything to worry about." He sounded confident of his words.

"Okay." The doctor nodded his head. "We'll end this here then. But any sign of blood, or if you have problems going to the restroom, you will speak up and say something." He turned and looked at Craig.

"Yes sir." Craig was amazed at how normal he was able to sound. He'd never been very good at lying.

The doctor instructed Bobby and Jerry to keep him on his medication, but to let him ease off the pain pills slowly. "He shouldn't be feeling as much pain now, and he needs to be moving around. He needs to start using that foot, even if it is awkward for him. His brain has to re-learn how to use the muscles in his foot, minus part of that toe. He shouldn't need any kind of crutch; he just needs to take it slow."

Once Craig was dressed and back into his coat, Bobby grabbed the wheel chair again and Craig didn't argue about sitting in it.

"Now, Jackie's been bugging the hell out of us to see you, so we're gonna head across the street and visit with him for a little bit." Bobby announced.

Craig didn't comment. He would have preferred to go home and hide in the family room again, but he knew if he said something about wanting to go home he would only piss Bobby off again. He didn't want his brother to think he didn't want to see Jack, though he had hoped he wouldn't have to see him so soon. He couldn't stand the thought that Jack was laying in the hospital, still in pretty bad shape, after taking a bullet and then protecting him. He'd been blocking more and more of the week's events out, and he'd managed to push the memory of Jack way back to the furthest reaches of his brain. If he seen him, he didn't know if he could fight down the turmoil in his brain that it would cause. He hoped his brothers would change their minds about taking him to see Jack, that Jerry would notice just how tired he was after going to the doctor and tell Bobby he thought it would be better if he just went home and had some time to rest before going to visit Jack. But Jerry didn't say that. He actually seemed excited about the plan. That meant Craig was going to have to face one of the demons from his self inflicted haze of the vacuum of his mind.


	43. Chapter 43

Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews :)

Disclaimer still counts

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**_Chapter 43: Visiting Jack_**

Bobby pushed the wheel chair through the halls of the hospital and onto the elevator. Craig felt a rock form in the pit of his stomach, but wasn't sure if it was the fact that they were going to see Jack, or if it was being in the hospital that was causing it. He closed his eyes as they rode the elevator up, trying to imagine he were someplace else at that moment. Anywhere but the hospital, where he had been….no, he couldn't let himself think about it. He had to push it back, but that was getting harder to do. It hadn't been so difficult to pretend the past week of his life hadn't happened when he was in Jerry's house, surrounded by walls that could reinforce his mental walls. He was out in the real world, and the pressure was starting to build. He could feel all of the crap he was holding in pressing against every nerve in his body, causing his head to ache. His subconscious was trying to focus on the fears he was struggling so hard to keep trapped. He opened his eyes, unable to stand the darkness that lay behind them any longer. The elevator door opened and Bobby pushed the chair out into the hall.

It seemed they walked forever, making twists and turns that confused Craig, and got him lost. Bobby and Jerry said hello to a few of the nurses they passed, and one in particular spoke to Bobby first, before he had a chance greet her. Bobby pulled the chair to a stop. "Craig, this is Sarah. She's one of Jack's nurses."

Sarah looked down at Craig, "Oh, the infamous Craig." She smiled and her blue eyes seemed to dance. "I've heard a lot about you." She held her hand out towards Craig.

Craig reached back and let the young woman shake his hand. "Hi."

"Are you managing to keep your brothers in line when they aren't hanging around here?" Sarah asked as she looked up at Bobby.

Craig smiled, but really didn't care to try to answer.

"Let me guess, you are here to see Jack." Sarah kept her gaze on Bobby.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Bobby sounded like a completely different person at that moment, he actually sounded cheerful. Craig didn't look up at him, but he could feel a pang of jealousy bite at his chest. He could tell Bobby liked this girl and the ease of their words to each other told the boy they had talked quite a bit. He wasn't sure why that bothered him. He'd been missing having his older brother around, but he'd been talking himself into believing that it was easier that way. He couldn't take the risk of any of his brothers getting as close as they had been getting just after his mother's funeral, and that included Bobby. Actually, that was more about Bobby than any of them.

He'd wanted his oldest brother to accept him so badly for so long, and now he knew that had been the worst thing that could happen, and not just for him, for his brothers too. His four brothers had always been close. Closer maybe than if they'd been blood brothers, Craig knew that. They thought alike, they could read each other's minds. They talked the same, they walked the same. One could start an action, or a sentence, and any of the others could finish it for him, without even thinking about it, they were that close. What if Jack had died? They would have been torn apart by that. If Craig hadn't let himself become as attached to them as he had in such a short period of time, he couldn't help but feel Jack never would have been shot to start with. Maybe he never would have gone to the door on Tuesday morning, and maybe…

He had to stop his brain from pondering on it. Each thought that he had about what had happened led him to the next sequence of events, and if he kept going, he would be remembering every detail.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Bobby telling Sarah he would see her later. He pushed the jealousy he was feeling back and told himself that it was best if Bobby was distracted by a pretty girl. If he was busy with her, he wouldn't have much time to be around his youngest brother, and therefore, Craig could strengthen his walls of defense against his emotions and his thoughts.

When they reached the room Jerry helped Craig stand from the chair, and then followed Bobby through the door. Craig stepped slowly into the room and felt a cold chill hit him hard. He swallowed back the anxiety that grabbed at him. Jack was lying with his eyes closed, looking as if he were sleeping well. Craig prayed Bobby wouldn't wake him, but he knew that he would. The boy leaned back against the wall and watched as Bobby stood there looking at Jack for a moment. The expression on his face told the boy what he already knew. If Jack had died, Bobby would have died on the inside.

"Hey you pussy, what are you doing sleeping at this time of the day?" Bobby sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbed Jack's left hand, which was free of any I.V. tubes and shook it."Come on fairy, wake up."

"I'm not asleep," Jack mumbled, his voice sounding quite similar to how Craig's had sounded the day he'd been released from the hospital. "What do you want?" He looked up at Bobby.

"Well to start off with, where in the fuck is Angel? He was supposed to be here." Bobby kept his stare on Jack.

"He went to get something to eat. That's why I thought I'd be able to get some rest. He was wearing me out." Jack sighed. "You guys don't have to be here so much you know." He spoke quickly.

Jerry laughed. "What was he doing this time?" He asked.

"He was calling people in from the hall and telling them that I was some big time rock star and I'd give them my autograph for five bucks." Jack sounded irritated.

Bobby and Jerry both burst out laughing. "Hell I thought he was supposed to be good at those games." Bobby joked. "That was the best he could come up with?"

"He made twenty bucks." Jack looked at Jerry, then back at Bobby, "And then he took the money to go get something to eat." At that point he couldn't help but laugh, which caused him to hold his side. "Oh god, stop laughing. That hurts." He raised his hospital gown enough to expose the drainage tubes that had been surgically inserted under his skin. Craig could remember someone mentioning that there was fluid that had to drain from his brothers' lung, but he couldn't remember who had said it, or when. He preferred not to push himself to remember the details.

"How are you feeling this morning, really?" Jerry forced his laughing to die down as he asked the question.

"About the same I guess. I'd give anything for a smoke." He looked at Jerry.

"Don't you think it's about time for you to quit that nasty habit little brother? I mean this would be the perfect opportunity, with you not having a cigarette for what, six days now?" Jerry pulled the only chair in the room over to the bed and sat down.

"That doesn't make the desire go away man." Jack shook his head.

"Have you eaten yet today?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, I ate breakfast. The doctor was in and checked out the drains." Jack motioned to the tubes before pulling the gown over them to cover them. "He said the same as he said before, maybe I can go home next week. There's a slight infection, but my lungs are clear and I'm getting stronger. I'm feeling better, I'm just tired."

"That sounds like someone else we know." Bobby turned and looked at Craig who was still leaning back against the wall. "Get your ass over here and say hello to your brother." He held his hand out and made a motion for him come over.

Craig walked carefully to the edge of the bed, not wanting to look at the tubes running into Jack, or the flush of his face. He didn't have dark circles under his eyes, but they looked tired. "Hey." He muttered.

"Well, it's about time. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me, living the high life at Jerry's, getting waited on hand and foot." Jack reached out, grabbed Craig's hand and pulled him down to him to hug him. "It's good to see you." He spoke quietly into the boy's ear. "I was worried about you." He let Craig pull back after a second. "Gotta watch all these," He let out a shaky breath as he motioned to the tubes again. "What have you been doing at Jerry's? Are you driving Camille crazy yet?" He looked at the boy closely. "You feel okay?"

"I'm fine." Craig answered. "You look good." He felt awkward and nervous and couldn't fight it down. He was trying to think of something to say that would sound normal, and that was the closest thing he could come up with.

"Like I said, I'm tired, but they said that's from the infection. It's not a major one, but my body is putting all it has into fighting it." Jack held onto Craig's hand. "You know what I'd like from you?" He sounded as tired as he looked. "I'd like a picture. Can you draw a picture and bring it to me?"

Craig was at a loss. He hadn't picked up his sketch pad since the first night he was at Jerry's. "Sure." He nodded his head. He couldn't very well say no to Jack at that moment, but he didn't know how he was going to be able to draw anything, it was as if there was nothin inside of him to draw. "What do you want?"

"Whatever you feel like drawing." Jack kept his hold on the boy's hand. "I'll bet you've been drawing non stop the past couple of days, haven't you?" He smiled.

Craig didn't try to answer.

"I was so scared for you." Jack gave Craig's hand a slight squeeze. "I tried to protect you, and I'm sorry I failed. I just wanted you to know that."

Tears slipped down Jack's cheeks and that caused Craig's own eyes to sting. He felt his throat constrict and bit down hard on his tongue to try to divert his attention away from the emotions that were starting to stir deep inside of him. He had to keep his control. It was the only way to keep his defenses up. He couldn't let Jack's tears draw out his own feelings.

"Guys, can I talk to Craig alone for a few minutes?" Jack looked at Bobby, then over to Jerry.

Bobby looked surprised, and hesitated before standing. "Sure." He looked at Jack. "Are you okay little brother?" He asked.

Jack smiled at Bobby. "I'm tired of telling you every five minutes that I'm okay. Now get the fuck out of my room." He sounded a little less emotional as he let go of Craig's hand and wiped at the tears streaking his face.

Bobby and Jerry both walked out of the room. Jack looked at Craig. "Sit down before you fall down. You look like shit." He pointed to the chair Jerry had been sitting in.

Craig stared at Jack for a long moment before taking the seat.

"You know, I can't get it out of my head. The look on your face when those guys grabbed you," Jack kept his stare on the boy. "I'm sorry I let it happen, I tried to take care of you; I really did."

Craig looked away from Jack. "You were shot Jack, it's not like you could do anything." He spoke quietly. "Just forget it." He stared down at his hands.

"Now you tell me how you're doing. I mean tell me the truth." Jack sounded calm, and his voice seemed steadier than before.

"I'm fine." Craig muttered, still not looking at the man for fear that it would break his resolve to block it all out, to block out his brothers. He had to resist the urge to let the tears fall and blurt out to Jack that he couldn't keep his eyes closed long enough at night to sleep because he was terrified of the dark. The only sleep he had managed was the half naps he'd take during the day when the dark wasn't so intense. He had to fight back the memories that Jack's few words had sparked, they were pounding at his head from the inside trying to push their way out, and it was starting his eyes to throb. He wanted to tell Jack that he hadn't been able to eat, because the food had no taste, and the thought of putting anything in his mouth made him nauseous. He wanted to tell Jack, he wanted to tell someone, anyone, that he hadn't been able to draw anything in his pad, that he felt empty and when he had tried to put the pencil against his paper the only thing his mind could see was endless black, the same black he had been trapped in when that tape had been over his eyes. He wanted to scream it at Jack actually. He wanted to scream it at anyone who would listen, but he couldn't let himself have what he wanted, he had to keep control, it was the only way to stay safe and not get hurt again. He had to drive those memories back into the fog he'd created in his mind.

"Have you been eating all your food?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Craig had repeated the lie so many times that it was getting easier to let it roll off of his tongue without thinking about it.

"Have you been having any of your nightmares?" Jack pushed.

"No." Craig kept his eyes fixed on his hands, picking at his left thumb nail.

Jack was quiet for a long moment. "You know, I was in a lot of foster homes before Mom got a hold of me." Jack muttered. "I was in one of the worst places you could ever imagine, and after that one bad place, I was so messed up that no one wanted me."Craig pulled his stare up to look at Jack. "I got beat up a lot in that place. Had a lot of other things happen to me while I was there, and after that I didn't trust anyone. I wouldn't give any one a chance to be good to me, because that meant I had to chance them being mean. Now I can look back at it, and really, I only had one bad foster home, but that was all it took, you know?"

Craig didn't understand where Jack was going with this. "So?" He asked, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice.

"So, Mom brought me home, and there were these three ass holes that I had to live with." Jack laughed. "And I didn't trust any of them, not even Mom. They were loud, and they fought with each other all of the time. They were always yelling at me, and I was sure that I was in the worst place imaginable. But then I saw that when Mom told them to settle down they would settle down. And when they seen that they were doing something to upset me, they stopped. They took care of me. They taught me to take care of myself. I had to learn how to trust them, but I did learn."

Craig drew in a deep breath, trying not to look confused by Jack's words.

"They took real good care of me once I gave them a chance. That's all." Jack shook his head. "I wanted to take care of you too, the way they took care of me. I'm your big brother too, and it seems I just can't do it the same way they do it."

Craig swallowed hard at a new surge of tears trying to force their way out. "You do fine." He muttered.

Jack laughed. "No, not really, I'm too used to being a little brother myself, maybe. I don't know. I just want to be sure that you know that I love you and I would do it again, even I did screw it up."

"You didn't screw it up." Craig muttered. He tried to tell himself he shouldn't care if Jack felt bad about that day or not. He was supposed to be separating himself from his feelings for his brothers, and he wasn't supposed to let himself care about any of that. If he let Jack go on feeling guilty, it would tear him apart inside as well, and that would make it harder to be in command of the very feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him. If he didn't respond at all it would probably look like he did blame Jack, though he didn't. He wanted Jack to stop talking about it, to stop bringing the pictures of that day so close to the surface of his consciousness.

"I feel like I did. I was stupid, and I should have seen it coming. I should have stopped you before you walked out of the house that morning." Jack went on, but Craig looked back down at his hands and started picking on another fingernail. He concentrated on blocking out most of Jack's words for a long time. He thought that if he acted as if he were listening, and just nodded his head from time to time that Jack could get his guilt out of his system and then he'd stop wanting to talk about it.

The door opened while Jack was still talking and Angel walked in, with Bobby and Jerry right behind him. Jerry was saying something about interrupting a private conversation, but the words were lost as Angel grinned at Jack. "I brought you a fucking hamburger." He held up a fast food sack.

Jack pulled a face as he looked at the bag. "Man, that don't even sound good right now." He glanced at Craig, as if he knew any chance of talking to the boy was gone now.

Craig sat in the chair for the next hour listening to the talk about the project at their mother's house that had developed quickly once all four of them were there. He tried not to pay much attention to what was being said. He turned his head and looked out the window at the snow and ice that still covered Detroit. He felt cold just looking at the winter landscape through the window.

He let his mind drift to what kind of a picture he could try to draw for Jack. He would have to draw something now, he had said he would. Maybe something would come to him. It had been a few days since he'd tried to sketch, so maybe something would come now. Maybe he hadn't lost that one thing that he'd always had that made his past tolerable. He missed his drawing; he missed the release it had always offered for the nightmare that had been his life.

Even though he tried to block out most of the conversation his brothers were having, he did hear bits and pieces, and he made a few mental notes, so that he would be prepared for what was coming. Jerry, it seemed would be at the house bright and early on Saturday morning, the three older Mercers would start on the major work on the house then. He was planning on being at the house on Friday night to go through the windows, lumber and bricks that were being delivered that day, and making sure that they had enough of everything they would need. The work would start on Saturday, and Jerry was taking his vacation that following week, so that they could work on it all week if needed. They told Jack that their visits wouldn't be nearly as frequent through that week, but that they would stop by at least once a day and they would be sure to call him as often as the work allowed.

Bobby looked over at Craig, who was still staring out the window. "Hey, are you still with us?" He spoke loudly.

Craig looked over at Bobby and nodded his head.

Bobby stared at him for a long moment before holding his hand up to his ear, "What was that?"

"Yes." Craig muttered.

Bobby looked at Jack. "I think we need to get him back to Jerry's. He's looking tired." He looked back at Craig. "Come on 'Hop-A-Long', let's get going." He motioned for the boy to stand.

Craig stood slowly, and looked at Jack when the man spoke. "Don't forget my picture." He reminded the boy.

Craig forced a smile. "I won't." He still kept his voice quiet.

The wheel chair was no longer sitting outside of Jack's door when they walked into the hall. Bobby did a little grumbling then looked down at Craig. "Can you make it all the way to the car?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head, though he honestly wasn't so sure that he could.

Bobby took a hold of his arm and turned him to look at him. "You got a voice; you'd best start remembering to use it."

"I can walk." Craig felt his entire body stiffen up under Bobby's touch. It happened too fast for him to control the reflex. He wasn't sure if Bobby noticed, he prayed he didn't, but couldn't tell by the stare the man was giving him. He fought to regain control and make his muscles relax under the man's grip. It wasn't as if the man was hurting him, he'd just startled him.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "That's twice. One more time and I'm gonna remind you about some rules. They still apply you know, even if you have been stayin' at Jerry's."

Angel said goodbye to them in the hall and then went back into Jack's room. Jerry and Bobby walked Craig out of the hospital, though it was a slow walk.

The ride back to Jerry's was fairly quiet, and when they got back Craig headed straight to the family room, to the couch that had become his safe haven. He laid himself down and turned on the television, letting his mind sink back into the comfortable numbness that he'd been building and perfecting for the past few days. He listened to Bobby and Jerry talking in the kitchen for a little while before closing his eyes and letting himself fall into a light sleep, though he knew he wouldn't be asleep long before the darkness scared him back to his senses.


	44. Chapter 44

Legal stuff still counts...

**_Chapter 44: The Picture_**

Craig listened to the sounds of the television and the faint voices drifting in from the kitchen. He heard Camille's voice when she got home, and then giggles and voices from his nieces, so he knew it was after three in the afternoon, which was the time Camille picked the girls up from daycare. He was surprised no one had come in and made him wake up for lunch. Not that he was actually asleep, it was as comfortable a daze as he could force himself into without starting to dream. He opened his eyes and moved to sit up, realizing as soon as he started to move that he had not had his pain medication as well. His pills were usually given to him after he'd been served his food, because he was supposed to have food on his stomach before he took them. He felt the urge to go to the restroom, and knew he had to get up and make himself walk despite the fact that his little toe was aching and his chest and back were tight and thumping a slight pain with each beat of his heart. He made his way to the kitchen, heading towards the downstairs bathroom.

Jerry and Camille were in the kitchen, Jerry stood at the counter cutting up carrots while Camille appeared to be preparing a meatloaf. Bobby it seemed had gone. Jerry looked over at the boy as he walked through. "You're awake, good. How are you feeling?" He asked.

Craig hesitated in his slow step long enough to look at his brother. "I'm sore." He muttered.

"Yeah, I decided to let you sleep a little, you seemed pretty wore out." Jerry nodded his head. "You should be pretty hungry since you missed lunch."

Craig nodded his head, hoping he looked sincere, because the last thing he really wanted was food at that moment. His stomach felt tight and achy.

"You okay?" Jerry asked, apparently the boy hadn't looked as sincere as he'd hoped.

Craig nodded his head. "I didn't have my pills today, I'm kind of hurting." He muttered. "I'm going to the restroom." He turned and walked on through the house to small restroom. His gut was cramping and it seemed the longer he was up and moving the more it was twisting up on him. He locked the door after him and peed quickly before sitting down on the seat to try to relieve the cramps. The burning sensation was becoming all too familiar to him, though he continued to tell himself it would stop eventually and everything would go back to normal. He'd dealt with it before, when he was little, though he couldn't remember it lasting for days. He'd been pretty young though, so he figured he just didn't remember it that well, and he didn't want to push himself to remember. The doctor's warning ran through his head as he strained through the pain. The cramping eased off as he finished, but when he cleaned himself off he found more blood than he'd become accustomed to, and it seemed much darker in color. He remained sitting for a long time, shaken enough by the blood this time to consider going to Jerry and telling him, but then he knew if he did he'd have to go back to the doctor, and the doctor would be able to tell he'd been lying to him, and then his brothers would know, and at that moment he felt he was more capable of dealing with the blood than his brothers. He could wait it out, it would stop, he was certain of that, and that seemed far less threatening than Bobby's anger at him for not saying anything right away. Besides, he knew what the doctor would do if he did go back, and the thought of the examination, or anything else being done to him in that area of his body felt too invasive. He couldn't stand the thought of any one touching him anywhere near that area.

A knock on the door brought the boy out of his thoughts. "Craig, are you okay?" Jerry called from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine." Craig answered loud enough for his brother to hear him. "I'll be out in a minute." He cleaned himself again, wiping away more blood, though he hadn't passed anything else. He suddenly felt panicked. The blood was still there. He grabbed more paper and continued cleaning the blood away until he was sure there was nothing left. He stood and pulled up his sweatpants. He didn't look to see how much blood was in the toilet before he flushed it. He was surprised to see Jerry still at the door when he pulled it open.

"You sure you're okay? You were in there a long time." Jerry didn't smile.

"I'm fine." Craig muttered.

Jerry nodded his head. "Okay, but you would tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Craig muttered.

Jerry gave the boy a hard look. "You swear to me you would tell me if there was somethin' wrong?" For the first time since Craig had been in Jerry's home the man didn't look as if he believed him.

Craig thought about the doctor's words as he opened his mouth to speak. He closed his mouth, swallowing back the admission that was about to come out. He drew in a deep breath. "I'm fine Jerry." He lied.

Jerry sighed. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour. You want to sit in the kitchen with us?" He offered.

"I was going to watch T.V." Craig was surprised by Jerry's offer.

"All right, you can do that if you'd rather do that. I don't want you sleeping any more though or you'll never sleep tonight." Jerry finally smiled, a sign that Craig's lie was believed and that no more questions would be asked, for the time being.

Craig watched the television until dinner was ready. He dreaded sitting down to the meal. He usually knew he could eat at least part of the meal, but his stomach was feeling more and more upset and tight with each passing second. He frowned when Jerry filled his plate for him; he hadn't been doing that before. He started to worry that maybe his brother had been noticing more than he'd given him credit for. He hadn't expected Jerry to be watching him as closely as Bobby would have. He'd found it easy to get out of eating most of the food that he'd been given.

Jerry smiled at him as turned to fill his own plate. Craig ate, though he was taking small bites and chewing slowly. Daniela and Amelia finished their plates when Craig was barely halfway through with his. Jerry cleaned his plate off and looked at Camille when she was done eating. "I'll tell you what baby; I'll get the dishes cleaned up tonight."

Camille smiled and looked relieved. "I'll get the girls their baths and then get them settled down." She agreed and looked at Craig. "You need to get that food eaten so you can take your pills. When I'm done with the girls I'll take care of your foot."

Jerry sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "You need to clean that plate tonight. There ain't gonna be no more leavin' food on your plate. You've been out of the hospital long enough that your appetite should be getting better." He spoke calmly.

Craig had a sinking feeling hit his stomach. "You gave me too much food." He poked at the meatloaf with his fork, not looking up at Jerry.

"No, I did not give you too much. I gave you a decent amount of everything. "Jerry shook his head. "You didn't have no lunch so you should have no problem with cleaning that plate."

Craig poked at the meatloaf some more, and then moved to the mashed potatoes, thinking that they might be easier to get down.

Jerry stood and started clearing the table, carrying the dishes to the sink and rinsing them before loading them into the dishwasher. He kept looking over at Craig, watching him nibble on the potatoes or carrots, and making a face. "You know, you aren't getting up from that table until you have eaten everything on that plate." He warned. "And Bobby and Angel are due here in about an hour, so you have that long." He continued to work around the boy, cleaning off the table, washing it down and then moving to the counters to make sure they were cleaned well.

It didn't take Jerry long to get the kitchen cleaned up, leaving only Craig's setting on the table that would need cleaned. Craig was forcing it down, though he thought he was about to burst.

"It's cold." Craig complained when he got down to only the meatloaf left on his plate.

"Of course it is, you have let it sit there." Jerry sounded calm; the exact opposite of what Bobby would sound like if he were there at that moment. "If you want hot food you gotta eat it while it's still hot."

Craig took a bite. "I don't like meatloaf." He spoke over the food while he made a face.

"The hell you don't, Mom used to serve it up all of the time and you would eat it." Jerry shook his head.

Craig avoided looking at Jerry. He was mentally scolding himself for slipping and letting Jerry see that he was having a problem eating, but he couldn't help it. His stomach felt as if it were full up to his throat and with each bite he took it was getting harder to hold it in. He tried to take a drink of his milk, but couldn't get more than a small sip down. He'd hoped it would help to wash the food further down, but it didn't. Jerry didn't say much more, he just kept looking at his watch, making a big production out of the time, and actually announcing it each time he pulled his wrist into view. Craig ate the meatloaf, in little bites.

Craig finished the last bite at six o'clock; when Bobby and Angel were due to arrive. Craig thought it was awfully early for them; they hadn't been coming by until the hospital kicked them out at the end of visiting hours each day. He didn't want to question it though; he didn't want to know the details. The less he knew the harder it would be for him to care. He didn't want to care.

Craig looked at Jerry, who seemed happy that he'd managed to get the boy to eat all of his meal. "Can I go to my room?" He asked quietly, anger brewing towards the man at that moment, and not wanting it to show.

"Don't you want to stick around down here? Bobby and Angel will be here any time. The doctor said you should be getting up and doing a little more. Why don't you get your plate cleaned off and put it in the dishwasher?"

Craig stood and picked up his plate. His mind grasped for an excuse to go to the bedroom that had been labeled as his. "I promised Jack I'd draw a picture for him." He muttered and walked the plate over to the sink.

Jerry stood and walked over to stand next to him. "Okay, you go draw your picture." He took the plate from the boy. "But you can stay awake for a while, right? You napped all afternoon, and I think you need to get yourself back into a normal routine. No more napping through the day and you stay up at least until ten."

Craig didn't comment. He turned and walked out of the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. Camille was in the restroom giving the girls their baths so he would have to wait to check on the little condition that he'd been keeping to himself. He'd barely reached his room when he heard the doorbell below. He listened as Jerry answered the door, and soon heard Bobby and Angel's voices moving through the house.

Craig picked up the sketch pad and pencil up from the stand next to the bed, where it had rested for days now, untouched. He drew in a deep breath, sat down and opened the book to the first picture. He thought that he might be able to find something that he'd already drawn to take to Jack. He wouldn't have to worry about not being able to get a new picture on paper if he could locate one that he thought his brother might like.

He found one he'd drawn that past fall from the view from the bridge. It had a boat in the water and leaves floating around on the wind. He decided that would be the one. He was sure that once Jack had healed he would be going back to New York, and he might like to have a picture of home to take with him. He stared at the picture as that thought led to his reasoning that Angel would probably be leaving as well. He was going to marry Sofi, and they would probably get their own place and live their own lives, and he wouldn't be seeing much of them, just as it had been with Jerry and Camille. Family gatherings and holidays and occasional visits when there was time would be the extent of his relationship with Angel. It was a good thing that he was putting those emotional walls up.

Bobby was overdue for receiving a phone call drawing him back out to his own life as well, and while that thought caused a small aching in his chest, it was nowhere near the fear he'd felt just after the shooting when he was so sure he would end up back in the custody of the state. His brothers hadn't turned him back over to any social worker; Bobby had signed the papers to keep him, to let him remain a Mercer. That didn't mean Bobby was going to stick around. Bobby had never been the kind to stick around; he had something inside of him that had always made him move on. Evelyn had said that to Craig once. He couldn't seem to settle down. He had never actually moved out of the house. First he was on the road with the team, but when he was home, he still was away from home most of the time. He'd stayed gone more and more as time went on, and eventually had just stopped coming home. He'd left most of his life at the house, stored away in the basement and the attic.

Craig wasn't afraid of his brothers going back to their own lives anymore. He was telling himself it would be best now if they did. He wouldn't have to keep his guard up so much if they went back to their own individual worlds and left him to his own. He knew he would be okay; he could probably stay with Jerry, it was easy to hold everything inside and keep it hidden when he was at Jerry's. He would have preferred to stay in his mother's house before, but with all that had happened, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go back there, to where his memories and fears were born, where he was sure they were lurking, waiting to creep back into his mind and tear down the defenses he had put so much energy into fortifying.

Craig pulled the picture from the binding of the pad, careful to keep the page intact. He looked at it, trying to remember the day that he'd seen that boat in the river, but it was vague and obscure in his mind. That was odd too him. Each picture he'd drawn had been a memory of some kind, and he'd always been able to remember the moment in time that he'd put on the paper. He laid the sketch on the stand as he realized he was erasing more memories than just the bad ones that he'd been deleting from his mind, and there was a little regret for losing that, but he knew that in the end it was a choice that he had to make, either remember it all, or keep it all trapped in that fog in his mind.

He tried to divert his thoughts by concentrating on the pictures before him. He turned the pages slowly, working his way back through the sketch pad. He came to the one of the last pictures and froze. He had been avoiding looking at the sketch in front of him, the one his mind had emptied out on him while he was alone in his room on Thanksgiving night. The image of his mother looking across the meat counter, her eyes fixed directly at him, fear etched into every feature of her face, so different from the likeness he'd given to Bobby on Saturday night. The two men holding guns aimed towards her. Her arm raised in mid air as if to shield herself from the inevitable.

All of the air sucked out of the room instantly. Craig fought to catch his breath and regain control of the turmoil churning around inside of him. He couldn't let himself feel that aching, couldn't chance letting his self feel anything period. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes and his chest tightened hard, working its way up into his throat. He felt his brain fighting against his efforts, reaching for the visions of the house being shot up, the look on Jack's face when he was shot, the same fear and pain written into his features that had been seeping from every line in his mother's face, the feeling of the needle being stabbed into him, the pain, and the burning of the drug that had clouded his mind and marked his passage into the unending darkness.

Craig dropped the sketch pad onto the bed, letting the pencil fall to the floor. He reached down next to the bed and grabbed his left shoe. He made certain the laces were lose and carefully slid it over his left foot, carful of the sensitive digit that had once been his little toe. He tied it loosely and stood. He found walking with the shoe on wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be, and for that he was thankful. He had to get out of there. He had to get out into the air where he could breathe; he had to get as far away from that picture of his mother's death, away from his memories as he could.


	45. Chapter 45

Just a note, Craig's father will show back up and will have to be dealt with, but not yet.

Legal stuff still counts!

* * *

**_Chapter 45: Old Habbits_**

Craig walked past the restroom, where Camille was now drying the girls off. He walked down the stairs, slowly, looking into the living room to be sure his brothers weren't anywhere in sight. He could hear them in the kitchen, Angel seemed to be bragging about making money at Jack's expense, and Bobby and Jerry were laughing about it. Craig moved as quickly as he could and still remain quit. He made his way down the last of the steps and pulled the door open. He stepped outside, pulling the door closed slowly, and purposely held the knob turned until it was completely closed, to prevent it from making any noise. He took the same care with the storm door before walking across the yard, towards the corner. He just needed to walk. He needed to get away from the feelings stirring inside of him. He drew in a deep breath of the cold air and quickened his stride, afraid his brothers would be right behind him at any moment. He turned at the corner, not slowing down until he was sure he was out of view of the house. His missing toe started to throb and sting. He stopped long enough to wriggle his foot in the shoe to be sure he'd left enough room, and then started stepping carefully.

He concentrated on the pain, trying to block out the images of his mother that were running through his head. They weren't all bad images, most were actually good memories, moments spent with her that he had always held onto like treasures. Only now they were intertwined with the memory of her face at the moment the bullet hit and the pain and fear that emanated from her as her life came to an end right in front of him. That lead to his mind trying to replay what had happened since that moment, and though he was trying with all his will to hold it back, the damn was cracking, and he could feel the pressure of the onslaught that was threatening. He didn't feel the cold wind whipping at his face, or notice the start of snow flurries spinning around him. He hugged his hands to his stomach, fighting down the painful cramp that was building up as he walked. The sky was turning to night quickly, and the street lights above him lining the middle class neighborhood were slowly coming on, starting off with a dim glow, brightening the longer they were on.

Watching the street lights as they went from dim to bright reminded him of his walk on Thanksgiving evening, when he'd left the house because his brothers had left him alone. He'd been angry, and he was feeling that anger again. He'd been spending the past four days fighting down his feelings, and one of those feelings was anger. He was angry at his brothers for not being there when their mother was killed. He was angry with them for dragging him through an emotional rollercoaster as they went after the men responsible for killing Evelyn Mercer, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling as if he'd been abandoned to Victor Sweet somehow, though he knew that was not the truth. He could feel the anger burning inside him even stronger as it occurred to him that they had made it far too easy for him to push them away. He really hadn't had to push, they hadn't been there. He knew Jack needed them, and he wanted them to be there for him. He wished that he could be there for him, but he couldn't be. He had his own demons to battle.

None of them had noticed that he was going though his own hell, or if they did notice they didn't seem to care. They were more worried about the house, more worried about Jack. Bobby it seemed was more worried about a nurse that was taking care of Jack. The only one who really seemed worried about him had been Jack, and Craig had told him the same lies he'd told everyone else. He just wanted someone to make it all go away. He didn't want to have any of the feelings any more, but no matter how hard he tried to block them out, each time they surged in on him was stronger than the last, and he didn't know how much longer he could surround himself with the wall of numbness he'd built.

As his thought of Jack ran through his head he started feeling guilty for feeling angry. Of course his brothers were worried about Jack, he was still in the hospital, and he wasn't out of danger yet. He had said himself that day that he had an infection. He had wanted his brothers to concentrate on Jack. He'd wanted them to be with him. He had told them so himself. How could he be angry at them for doing what he said he wanted them to? Then a tiny voice inside his head reminded him that Bobby Mercer was not the kind of person to do what someone else told them to, if he didn't want to. If Bobby had wanted to be there for him, he would have been. If Bobby had wanted to help him, he would have helped him. A voice of reason spoke to him next, telling him he hadn't let any of his brothers know that he needed help. He hadn't wanted them to help. He kept lying to them, and he kept hiding his feelings and pushing back the yearning for their help, because it was easier than letting himself cling to them and then lose them, and he was sure he was going to lose them. Jack had almost died because of him, and he couldn't stand the thought of losing someone else that he loved.

The sound of a car horn brought him out of his thoughts. He'd been about to step off the edge of a curb, to cross a street. He stepped back as a car sped past, honking as if he'd pissed the driver off. He looked at the buildings around him. He was no longer in Jerry's neighborhood. He had no idea where he was.

* * *

Blueprints covered the table in Jerry's kitchen. He was standing at the open refrigerator, pulling out three bottles of beer. "I sure hope you both plan on staying tonight. Neither one of you need to be driving." He let the door pull its self closed and carried the bottles over to the table, where Bobby and Angel were both seated, and set a bottle down in front of both of them. Bobby quickly drained the bottle he'd been drinking out of and gave it a careful toss into the nearby trash can. "We can't stay Jerr', we need to be downtown first thing in the morning to file for the building permits, remember?"

"I'm going with ya all too, you know. You can both stay here and we can ride together." Jerry suggested as he sat down with his own beer and opened it. "We're gonna be goin' over this until late, if you really want to add that back porch onto the house, and extend the upstairs."

"Yeah, we need to show the kid what we have planned for his room." Bobby grinned. "He's not gonna know what to think about having a real room." He opened his fresh beer and took a long drink. "Where is 'Hop-A-Long' anyway?" He looked at Jerry.

"He went upstairs to draw Jack his picture." Jerry frowned.

"Okay brother, what's up?" Angel asked, "Something goin' on with the kid?"

Jerry sighed and set his beer down on the table. "I don't know. Ya all know how it feels when someone says one thing but you can tell they mean another?"

"You mean, like when Angel says he ain't goin' for no 'La Vida Loca' ass, and ends up giving that crazy bitch a fucking ring?" Bobby asked with a laugh.

Jerry had to laugh at the statement, and at the look that crossed Angel's face. Angel was about to say something, but Jerry continued on before he had the chance. "Yeah, actually, exactly like that."

Bobby stopped laughing and looked at Jerry. "Okay so what's up?" He looked concerned.

"Our little brother had a problem eating his dinner tonight." Jerry shook his head. "I don't know man, maybe I'm reading too much into it, but after I let him go upstairs I got to thinking about it, and man, He really ain't been eating that much."

"You said before that he was fucking eating Jerry, what the hell you talkin' about?" Bobby asked quickly.

Jerry looked at Bobby. "I ain't here when he has breakfast, but Camille hasn't said anything about him not eating in the mornings. She ain't said anything about any trouble with lunch either, but I started thinking about dinner, and he eats, but it's like he's eating just enough to make me happy. He's left food on his plate, and I didn't think he'd been leaving that much, but then I realized he ain't been putting that much on his plate. I filled his plate for him tonight, because he hadn't had lunch today." He drew in a deep breath, "And I'm telling you, all he did was whine and complain and poke and stab at his food. Stabbing at mashed potatoes is not normal."

Bobby shook his head. "Shit." He sat back in his chair. "I knew I should have been comin' round more." He muttered.

"You wouldn't have caught it either. He pulled one on us this morning and we didn't catch it." Jerry shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Bobby seemed quite interested. "He ate."

"He ate at the middle of two pieces of toast. He left the crust, and most of that toast was on that crust." Jerry pointed out.

"Kid seems to have a couple of tricks up his sleeve." Angel commented. "What about nightmares, man, you think he's had any at all?"

Jerry shook his head. "That's another thing, I've been thinking that he's sleeping, but I watched him this afternoon after you left Bobby, and he wasn't asleep. He was awake, with his eyes closed. I check on him every night before I go to bed, but I don't know, he might be playin' possum until after I check on him at night, and then getting up." He paused for a long moment. "That would explain why he's so fucking tired all of the time. He's not sleeping."

Bobby's right leg started thumping up and down quickly. "The little shit's been lyin' to us." He muttered, "Son of a bitch."

"We don't know that Bobby, it's just a feeling that I got after watching him have such a hard time eating. I mean if I hadn't told him ya all was comin' I don't think he would have finished when he did. It took him over an hour to eat one plate of food." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "There is one more thing." He opened his eyes after a moment and looked at Angel, and then Bobby. "He's been using the restroom a lot. I mean he goes in and he's in there for fifteen or twenty minutes. He's tired, he weak, and he's cranky. I think there's something else going on with him."

Bobby stood without saying a word and walked through the house to the bottom of the stairs. "Craig!" He called out, trying to keep from sounding angry.

Daniela appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hi Uncle Bobby," She called down.

Bobby let a smile spread across his face for a long moment. "Hello Daniela." He used the 'Uncle Bobby' voice he had perfected over the past several days. He had forgotten for a moment that the girls were upstairs getting ready for bed with their mother.

Camille appeared behind Daniela after a moment. "Hello Bobby." She smiled down at him.

"Hey Camille," Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Could you ask Craig to come down here? I need to talk to him." He looked at his niece and gave her another smile.

"He's not up here. He went downstairs when I was finishing up the girls' baths, about an hour ago." Camille shook her head.

"No he didn't." Bobby now felt worried.

"Bobby, I watched him walk past the restroom door while I was drying my daughters off. I almost had them both tucked in by the way, until you yelled up the stairs. After I get them to bed I was going to change that bandage on Craig's foot." Camille placed a hand on each hip, looking a little irritated at the bedtime routine being disrupted.

"I'm sorry Camille, I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again." Bobby smiled, though at that moment he wanted to scream. He turned and walked back towards the kitchen quickly.

Jerry and Angel both looked up as the Bobby walked through the kitchen to look in the family room. "He's not upstairs." He came back from the family room door.

"You thinking he walked past us while we were sitting? Don't you think we would have seen him?" Angel stood quickly. "You didn't go upstairs, you weren't gone long enough." He headed towards the stairs.

"Camille said she seen him come down an hour ago." Bobby spoke loud.

"Well maybe he went back up and she didn't see him." Angel kept going.

Bobby looked at Jerry, "Any ideas?" He asked.

Jerry shook his head. "Not really." He walked around the table and headed for the hall closet between the living room and kitchen. "There ain't no places around here except the playground. He might have gone there, he knows where it is." He reached into the closet and pulled out Bobby's leather coat, handing it to him quickly.

Bobby followed Jerry. "What the fuck is going through his head? I thought we were through with this kind of shit from him." He took his coat and pulled it on quickly before taking Angel's coat next. "I swear Jerr' I'm gonna beat his ass when we find him. I ain't up for more worryin'. He knows not to be takin' off on any of his little walks."

Jerry pulled his own coat out last and pulled into it as Angel came down the stairs carrying Craig's sketch pad. "There has to be a reason for it Bobby, just calm down." He spoke as he pulled his car keys out of his pants pocket.

Angel looked at Jerry and then Bobby. "I found this." He handed the sketch pad to Bobby as he took his coat from him.

Bobby turned the pad so that he could see it. "Son of a bitch," He muttered and handed it on to Jerry. "So he's walking around in the cold, did he take his coat?" He asked.

Jerry shook his head. "No, it's in the family room." He closed up the sketch pad and put it in the closet on the shelf. "Don't want my girls seeing that by accident." He spoke to Bobby who gave him a confused look.

Bobby nodded his head. "Okay, you take your car, I'll take mine. Angel, give me your phone. You ride with Jerry."

Angel handed Bobby his phone with no argument. "Where are we gonna look?"

"We check that park first." Bobby looked at Jerry, "Any other place that you can think of?"

Jerry shook his head. "Bobby, he don't know much about this part of town. He knows about the playground because we had Amelia's birthday party there last year. This is all residential man, ain't no place for quite a ways that he could go to get out of the cold."

Bobby pocketed Angel's cell phone and walked out the door while Jerry called up the stairs to his wife to let her know what was going on. He didn't wait for his brothers to follow him. When he found the kid he was going to remind him about some basic rules. He was going to beat some common sense into that thick ass of his before announcing he was grounded for life, and then he'd grab hold of him, give him a good strong hug and tell him never to scare the shit out of his family like that again.

* * *

Craig stood at the corner and wiped at the tears that were falling down his cheek. He wasn't sure where he was, but he was cold and his body hurt. His stomach was trying to cramp up on him, and his toe was throbbing hard. He couldn't tell if he had been walking North, South, East or West before he'd come to the corner. He turned and headed up the street, his foot forcing him to limp slightly. There were businesses lining both sides of the street, and no houses in sight at all. He checked the street signs each time he came to a corner, but none of the names sounded familiar. The cold was starting to bite into him and he started to shiver. The cold felt worse than it ever had before in his life. The snow was still falling around him in scattered flurries, nothing worth noticing. The fear of being lost seemed to have been enough for him to shift his concentration from his raw emotions, back to reality, at least mostly. He had no idea how long he'd been out walking the streets, but he was sure that by now he'd been missed at Jerry's. He hadn't intended on getting lost, he wasn't sure what his intentions had been when he left the house, but getting lost certainly wasn't one of them.

He was thankful when he came onto a gas station. He went inside and asked the clerk for the restroom. He was given a key and told it was outside, on the west side of the building. Craig made his way back out into the cold and hobbled around the building. He was thankful to get into the restroom, out of the cold, and more thankful to finally be able to use the restroom. What he needed to do came hard and seemed to burn intensely. He let the tears slip out, not caring at that moment if he was crying. The only thought he could come up with at that moment was that he wanted to go home. He wanted to lie down in his own bed and he wanted to hide from everything for as long as possible. There was blood this time, but there didn't seem to be as much as last time. When he stood the floor seemed to shift on him, and the room tilted to his left. He caught himself on the wall and managed not to fall. He stayed there, pressed against the wall for a long time, waiting for his head to clear. He finally chanced standing on his own. The pain and burning were still there, but he knew he didn't need to go again, and even if he did, he was afraid of the pain getting worse. A new fear was growing in him now, a different fear; something could be done about this new fear. Hiding from the blood he'd been seeing, and the pain he was feeling in certain areas wasn't helping him, it was getting worse and he was starting to realize it wasn't going to go away. He wanted someone to make it all go away. He tried to sort out what he could do, but his mind seemed to be in a fog. He'd been trying so hard to get to a state in which everything was lost in a fog, but at that moment he couldn't even put a full thought together without feeling confused.

He walked carefully back inside the store, and handed the key to the man at the register. He stood at the counter for a second, trying to figure out what to do.

"Kid, you don't look so good. You need help?" The young man behind the counter asked.

"Can I use your phone?" Craig asked weakly, asking the question before he even realized he was thinking it.

Moments later the phone was being set on the counter in front of the boy. He picked up the receiver and dialed, not sure what number it was. It took four rings for the other end to pick up. "Camille? I need Bobby."


	46. Chapter 46

I know I keep saying this, but we are getting closer to the end :) Thanks as always for reading, and for the reviews.

Legal stuff still counts...

* * *

**_Chapter 46: Telling the Truth_**

Craig felt tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to listen to Camille talking to him on the other end. His stomach was starting to feel nauseous and his ears were ringing.

"Where are you Craig?" Camille's voice came through the receiver several times, repeating the same question until he finally figured out what it was she was asking.

"I don't know." The tears were increasing, "I need Bobby. Where's Bobby?" He asked the question weakly.

"Baby he's out looking for you. Tell me where you are and I can call them and they can come for you."

"I don't know." Craig was getting frustrated.

"Is there anyone around that you can ask?" Camille asked him.

Craig couldn't make out her voice. He thought about what he'd been able to hear though. His brothers were out looking for him. That meant that Bobby would be pissed. He was in trouble. He was causing problems again, and he had almost messed up by giving in to the need of letting his brothers take care of him. Then his mind started to go into the defensive mode that he was so used to operating in. He felt the cracked and weakened walls building back up with a little strength. He hung up the phone. He looked at the clerk behind the counter. "Thank you." He turned and started to walk towards the door.

The man behind the counter slid the phone back towards him, "Why don't you hang out in here for a little bit?" He asked before Craig could reach the door. "You look cold. You aren't dressed for this kind of weather."

Craig looked through the glass door, out at the darkness that lay beyond. He felt his mind drifting back to the darkness he'd been trapped in for what seemed like days to him. The things that had been done to him while he was in that black void, his memories of the pain that had been inflicted on him, from his head to his toes, literally, came rushing back. All of the feelings that had engulfed him during that time seemed to rush back, bursting the walls apart. The tears falling increased. He couldn't go to his brothers; they were going to be mad as hell at him. He was being selfish, taking their time away from other things, and he hadn't meant to do that, really he hadn't.

"You want some hot chocolate? It will help you to warm up." The man was speaking.

Craig shook his head slowly, staring out into the dark, remembering what he'd been trying so hard to forget. The phone rang, and the clerk answered it, talking quietly, but it barely registered to the boy, his mind was pulling him into the fog where he had forced all of his memories, sucking him into them. He could feel the needle being stabbed into him, the feel of the air being pushed out of his lungs with a force like nothing he'd ever felt before when man number three had brought his foot down hard on him. He could feel his face being pushed into a place that made him want to gag. The smells, the sounds, the hands grabbing him in places that made him feel dirty, and being unable to stop them, the feel of Victor Sweet behind him, the pain he felt, and he fear that had penetrated every nerve each time Sweet moved. He stood there for what felt like an eternity staring out into the dark, trapped in that fog with his memories. The whole time he could hear the detached voice of the young man behind the counter talking to him. It seemed it went on for a long time.

"Kid, did you hear me? I got you some hot chocolate." The man that had been behind the counter was now standing next to him holding a paper cup. "Come on, you can sit down over here." He motioned for a chair that was set at the end of the sales counter. "You need to relax."

When Craig didn't move, the young man reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, to guide him towards the chair, and Craig pulled away. "Don't touch me," The fear of the touch pulsing though his body.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to help. You want a soda instead?"

Craig shook his head. "No thanks." He kept his gaze out the window. "It's dark out there." He muttered the words to himself, almost forgetting the man was standing there.

"Yeah, there aren't many street lights. And some of the canopy lights are out." The clerk put the hot chocolate on the counter. "Look, you're about to fall over. Why don't you just sit down here?" He offered again.

Craig shook his head. "I need to go." He muttered, not wanting to walk out the door, but feeling a need to try to go home.

"No you don't. Not right now. You can sit down and catch your breath." The clerk spoke quickly.

Craig shook his head again, keeping his eyes focused on the dark, letting his mind absorb it again and fall into it, trying to escape now from the his present predicament. The clerk drew in a deep breath. "Look I close in about an hour, you can stick around until then and I'll take you anywhere you need to go, how's that?"

There was something in the man's voice that Craig didn't trust. He had to leave and get away from this person, he had the impression this guy was trying to get him to stay for a reason and that scared him. "I'm fine. I have to go." He forced his feet to move, and once he'd made that first step through the door, he found it was easier to keep moving. He walked across the street, and now that he knew which direction was west, he headed that way, sure it was the direction he needed to go to get home.

He'd barely gotten half a block when he heard the sounds of cars on the street behind him, near the gas station he'd just walked out of. He turned and seen two sets of headlights coming up the street from the east, pulling into the gas station, barely slowing down before making the turn into the lot. He felt his heart drop to his stomach as he was sure he could make out the side of Bobby's car followed by Jerry's sedan as they pulled under the canopy lights of the station. He stood there, dazed, telling himself it couldn't be his brothers. He started stepping slowly back towards the station, watching the men get out of the cars, confirming that is was indeed Bobby, Jerry and Angel, though he had been certain the chances of a beat up, half wrecked, ten year old Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme pulling into the lot of the gas station right in front of a Volvo sedan that looked exactly like Camille's weren't very high. His tried to focus his confused mind long enough to figure out how they had found him. He hadn't been able to tell Camille where he was. He didn't know. He remembered hearing the phone ring after he'd hung it up. Could Camille have hit redial and talked the young man behind the counter? That would explain why the guy seemed to be trying to get him to stay. He never should have called Camille; his brothers were going to kill him. He continued walking back towards the gas station. He didn't even consider trying to run. He couldn't have run at that moment, his body hurt too bad, his foot hurt; but even though his brothers, Bobby mostly, were going to be mad as hell at him, he wanted someone to make the pain go away, and make him feel safe again. His mind screamed against the plan, telling him he was going to let them get too close, and he'd end up getting hurt again. But the walls of defense that he'd so carefully built around him were in shambles. He was falling apart on the inside, and he didn't want to be alone any more.

He was half way across the lot of the gas station when the door opened and Bobby walked out, looking back at Jerry and Angel who were following him, talking to them and pointing up the street. He turned just as Craig reached the tail end of the Cutlass, and he stopped talking immediately. "Little brother you are in for an ass beating!" He yelled the words as he stepped towards the boy with quick strides.

Craig watched the man moving across the parking lot towards him. "I'm sorry." He spoke quietly. "Bobby, I'm sorry." The tears started again as the man reached him.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You think you can just up and walk out any time you feel like it?" Bobby reached him, wrapping his arms around the boy in a hard hug and holding him there. "Shit, you're freezing." He muttered.

Jerry and Angel weren't far behind Bobby. "Kid, you scared the shit out of us." Angel's voice was loud.

"I'm sorry." Craig spoke into Bobby's coat. He didn't want his older brother to let go of him, but the man pulled his arms back, and grabbed him by his shoulders, pushing him back to look at him.

"You're gonna have to do better than that. I'm ready to bust your ass into next week." He shifted his right hand to grip Craig's left arm hard. "Get in the fucking car." He pulled him the few steps to the driver's side of the car, opened the door and pushed him into the back seat. He turned to Jerry and Angel and he pushed the seat back into place. Craig heard them say they would meet back up at Jerry's before Bobby got into the car and closed the door hard.

Craig sat back in the seat, waiting for Bobby to start yelling. He waited for him to say something, anything. But there was silence as Bobby started the car, put it in gear, and steered it carefully out of the lot, and into the street.

Craig could see the headlights from Jerry's car following them out of the station's lot. He swallowed back at the fear that was welling up inside of him. He knew his brothers would never hurt him, he was just afraid of them hating him. He drew in a deep breath. "Bobby?" He asked carefully.

"Shut up. Now is not the time for you to be tryin' to talk to me." Bobby didn't look back; he kept his eyes on the street ahead of him.

"I didn't mean to…" Craig started to speak again.

"I said shut up!" Bobby's voice rose. "Do you know how fucking worried we were?" He was close to yelling. "We are going to have a good talk when we get back to Jerry's, but until then, you need to keep your mouth shut or I will lose it with you."

"But I didn't mean to leave." Craig muttered.

"You didn't mean to leave?" Bobby laughed. "Oh, that's a new one. You walked down the stairs and out the fucking door, but you didn't mean to leave? Keep your mouth shut Craig; you're burying yourself deeper by opening it."

Several minutes into the drive Craig could feel the warm air from the heater reaching him. He held onto his stomach, trying to stop shivering, and looked at Bobby's back. He'd known his brother would be angry with him, and he'd been prepared to face that. He prayed Bobby wasn't going to give him the silent treatment again. He'd hated that more than hearing his brother yelling at him.

Bobby stopped at a traffic light and turned slightly to look at the boy "You warm yet?" He still sounded angry.

Craig shook his head slowly, still shivering, afraid to speak now for fear of making Bobby angrier with him.

"You know you are going to be grounded for a very long time after this." Bobby stared at him, the lines forming around his eyes from the effort of holding in the tension that his voice betrayed.

Craig nodded his head slightly. He hadn't really thought about it but it wasn't surprising.

The light changed, but Bobby stared at the boy for another moment, prompting Jerry, who was still behind them to honk his horn.

Craig wiped at the tears that kept escaping. "I know." He spoke as he realized his brother was waiting for an actual answer.

"You keep forgetting rules. We're gonna cut through your bullshit when we get back to Jerry's, and we're gonna figure out what the fuck is goin' on with you." Bobby turned back to the street and pulled on through the intersection.

After a few minutes of silence Bobby glanced back at the boy in the rearview mirror. "What made you call Camille?"

Craig looked out the window next to him. "I wanted you to come and get me." He muttered.

Bobby was quiet for a moment. "Then why did you hang up on her?" He pushed.

"Because I didn't know where I was." Craig muttered. "I don't know what's going on in my head, it scares me." He spoke in a small voice, talking to himself really, not Bobby.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby asked the question in a voice not quite as loud as it had been.

Craig stared out the window, wishing he knew how to explain to his brother what his brain seemed to be doing to him, but not knowing the words to describe it. He wiped at more tears and swallowed back at the tightness in his throat. After several minutes of silence he managed to stop the tears for the time being.

Bobby didn't ask him the question again. The rest of the ride was quiet. Craig was feeling warmer by the time they got to Jerry's house. Bobby pulled into the drive, and Jerry pulled in next to him.

When Bobby got out of the car he pulled the seat up to make room for the boy to climb out. As soon as Craig was out of the car Bobby grabbed hold of him let Jerry and Angel lead them to the front door.

Camille met them at the door and started asking questions about where they found the boy, and if he was okay, while the men were pulling off their coats. As soon as Bobby had his coat off and hung in the closet he grabbed Craig's arm again and pulled him through the house towards the family room while Jerry asked Camille to make some coffee.

Craig was surprised that Bobby's hold on him was fairly loose. He let his brother pull him to the family room and sit him down on the couch. He watched as Bobby pulled the coffee table over directly in front of him and sat down on it, facing him.

Angel walked in ahead of Jerry, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Craig. Jerry pulled the chair over from its corner, and sat down in it, putting himself almost directly next to Bobby.

Bobby stared at the boy for a long moment, looking as if he were thinking about something. "I want you to keep your eyes on me Craig, no matter what, you got that?" He asked. "And I expect you to tell me the fucking truth."

Craig nodded his head, "Yeah." His voice came out weak.

"Have you wanted to talk this past week?" He asked the question carefully.

Craig stared at Bobby. He started to tell the man no, which wouldn't have been a lie. He hadn't wanted to talk, but as he thought about the question he nodded his head slowly, and spoke in a voice that sounded tiny even to him. "I think so."

Bobby drew in a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. "I wanted to talk to you too." He looked a little less pissed than he had earlier. "But I didn't want to push you to talk if you weren't ready. You seemed to be doin' okay, for the most part, so why didn't you tell anyone you wanted to talk?" He asked.

Craig felt his nerves building. How was he supposed to tell Bobby, or Jerry, or Angel what he'd been trying to do since he woke up in the hospital? They wouldn't understand it. He knew it wouldn't make any sense to them, though it had felt right for him, at least it had at the time. "I was scared." He spoke quietly.

"What were you scared of?" Bobby pushed.

Craig shook his head. "You were busy with Jack, and you have the house to worry about, and I…" His voice caught in his throat as a new surge of tears choked at him. "I didn't want to…" He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

Angel leaned towards him. "You didn't want to what?" He pressed. "You know better than to think that we didn't have time for you. We would have made all the fucking time in the world for you."

Craig shook his head slowly, looking down at his hands.

"I told you to look at me." Bobby smacked at the boy's leg enough to draw his gaze back up to him. "Did you think we didn't have time for you?"

Craig shook his head. "That wasn't it." He muttered. "I don't know. I just didn't want to get in the way." He felt the tears falling again. "I'm sorry."

Bobby stared at him with a look of surprise on his face. He nodded his head after few moments and cleared his throat. "You felt like there were other things that were more important, and instead of trying to talk to us you assumed you could deal with all that shit going around in your head on your own?" He sounded calm.

Craig was surprised that Bobby seemed to understand what he'd meant. "Yeah," He admitted.

Bobby leaned forward, a little closer to the boy. "Kid, you had shit done to you that I wouldn't be able to handle. I had a feeling you weren't dealing with it too damn good. I should have followed my instincts and made you talk to me. I'm sorry." He spoke quietly.

Craig felt confused, his brother was telling him he was sorry, and he didn't understand why. "I didn't want to talk." He spoke carefully.

"But I know you like to run from the shit bothering you, I seen that before. You hide it, and try to escape from it instead of facing it and dealing with it. I should have made you deal with it sooner. Don't worry, we're gonna do that now. No more fucking running." Bobby leaned a little bit closer. "When you're like this, you don't sleep. So you ain't been sleepin', have you?"

Craig stared at Bobby for a long moment before shaking his head. "No." He wiped at more tears falling.

"So every time you were asked about that you lied. Every night when you went up to your room, and lay in that bed, you were purposely being deceitful." Jerry shook his head. "Son of a bitch, I fell for it too." He gave Craig an angry stare. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I couldn't sleep." Craig muttered, looking over at Angel.

"You could have said something about it. You could have let any one of us know. We have been here every fucking night since you got out of the hospital." Angel shook his head. "Didn't we go through all of the nightmare shit at home once already? Didn't you think we would understand? What was it?"

"It wasn't the nightmares." Craig looked back at Bobby. "It was dark." He tried to explain as the tears increased.

Bobby looked confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It was dark." Craig could feel it all pushing up from somewhere deep inside. "I couldn't see anything, and I can't get any of it out of my head, because I couldn't see it. It's stuck inside my head and I can't get it out." His voice was becoming stronger as he tried to explain it to his brothers. "I could always get it out before."

Jerry stood quickly and walked out of the room.

"What can't you get out? Huh? You know, you can tell us, and maybe that will help." Bobby's voice sounded strained.

"I can't." Craig shook his head. "I never had to talk…" The force of the tears increased.

Jerry walked back into the room carrying Craig's sketch pad. "This. This is how you always got bad stuff out of your head before?" He asked calmly.

Craig looked at the pad and nodded his head. "But it was nothing but black and I can't…"

"Sweet kept your fucking eyes covered the whole time. You couldn't see anything; you can't draw what you can't see. Am I right?" Jerry sat back down in his seat, dropping the sketch pad on the couch between Angel and Craig. "That only leaves you one option. You gotta tell us. We've been waiting for you to say you're ready. Apparently now you're ready." He sounded very calm, and spoke in a 'matter-of-fact' tone.

Craig looked at Bobby. "I can't." His voice sounded weak.

"You can, don't worry, we'll help you with it as much as we can. But you ain't moving from this couch until we have everything taken care of." Bobby looked calm enough, but his voice told the boy that he wasn't going to get out of talking to his brothers about his time spent with Victor Sweet. "I don't mean just you talking to us. I want to know about your fucking eating. I want to know if you've been lying about that too, sneaking around and dumping food."

Craig nodded his head slowly. "I can't eat." He admitted with out Bobby having to push it, "It makes me feel sick to put anything in my mouth."

Bobby rested a hand on each of the boy's legs. "Craig, I can't make what happened to you go away. You know Sweet is dead. You know he can't hurt you anymore. All I can do is work on making you get over it. What do you think you need for that to happen?"

Craig shook his head. "I don't know." He felt confused by how calm Bobby seemed. He'd expected his oldest brother to be ranting and raving the second they got to the house, but he wasn't.

Bobby sat back and drew in a deep breath. "Well before, I had to put you over my knee and wail your ass black and blue. Do I need to do that now? Because I really don't want to have to do that with you feeling so bad," His voice was calm, but threatening.

"Bobby, you don't need to be doing that." Jerry looked at the older man. "He's emotional, ya' all can't start wailin' on him."

"The hell we can't." Angel spoke up before Bobby had the chance to. "It worked the last time. That and keeping him under constant watch like a five year old, he didn't have no fucking choice but to deal with shit. Did you Craig?"

"Is that what you think you need? You need to be glued to someone's side twenty four hours a fuckin' day?" Bobby asked, the boy.

Craig thought about the words. He remembered how he felt when Bobby had told him he wasn't on restriction any more. He'd been afraid of things going back to the way they'd been before. And even though he knew it was his own fault, lately it had been a lot like it had been before, with his brothers not being around much, even when they were at the house they were busy with other things. They had Jack to worry about, and they had the plans for the house, and all the work there that had to be done, and he'd pushed them back, trying to keep his feelings and his fears at bay. They had made it too easy for him to block out his need for their attention. He allowed his old instincts to kick in and shook his head slowly. "No." His voice held the hesitation he felt, but he couldn't keep it out.

"Now Jerry, you see that look on his face right now? That's the look he gets when he's starting to lay out the bull shit." Bobby looked at Jerry, "That means that he just lied. He thinks he needs to be on restriction again. He needs someone around, 'cause he feels safer that way, but he won't come right out and say that." Bobby looked back at the boy. "Now I'm going to ask you again little brother, and you'd best not be pullin' that shit again. Do you think you need to be on restriction?" Bobby's voice was tight that time, holding in the anger that Craig had expected to be released the moment they got to the house.

Craig swallowed hard. "Yeah," He muttered.

"Yeah, I think so too." Bobby nodded his head. "I also think the ass whipping' you got coming will be put on hold. You're fuckin' lucky I'm in such a good mood tonight. But if you screw up just once I'm gonna lay into you; one more fucking lie, one more time of purposely trying to make us believe that you're doing better than you are, and you are going to sit on fluffy soft pillows for a month. Got that?" Bobby spoke quickly.

Craig nodded his head slowly. "Yeah," He was amazed that he felt relieved. He didn't have to worry about dealing with any of it any more, Bobby was going to take control of it, and that made him feel better, though somewhere deep in his subconscious that little voice was screaming at him that he couldn't let his brothers in, he couldn't depend on them. All the fears of them leaving him were pounding on the inside of his head, telling him he needed to build the walls back up to keep himself safe. His gut tried to cramp up on his a little and he started to feel the burning and cutting sensation that he'd been fighting with since he'd been released from the hospital. He felt the need to go to the restroom, but he was afraid of the blood that had been present every time he went.

"So what do we do now? We gonna make him talk?" Angel asked the question. "Because I'm real anxious for him to start that talking part, you know, he's hardly said a fucking word here. He's just agreeing with everything you're layin' out for him."

"What about it Craig, you ready to start fucking talking now?" Bobby glanced at Angel and then looked back at Craig.

Craig swallowed hard and kept his stare fixed on Bobby. "I lied to the doctor." He muttered.

Bobby's face went blank of all emotion, even the anger, "About what?" His voice was quiet, but tense.

Craig swallowed hard, holding onto his stomach. "It hurts." He muttered.

"What hurts?" Jerry asked quickly.

"When I go to the restroom, it hurts to…" He wanted to wipe at the tears falling, but didn't want to let go of his stomach.

"Does it hurt you to shit?" Bobby asked quickly.

Craig nodded his head. "And there's some blood." He admitted, looking down from Bobby to the edge of the coffee table.

"You got blood?" Bobby's voice carried a strange tone to the boy, he couldn't quite figure out if it was the man's angry voice. It sounded angry, but a little different. He was sure he could tell by looking at his brother's face, but he was afraid to look up.

"You got blood and you never said anything?" Jerry cried out. "Damn!" The man stood and walked towards the kitchen.

Bobby reached out, grabbed the boy's arms and stood, pulling him to his feet. "Well let's go take a look at just how much blood you're talkin'." His voice was void of all emotion that time, but his grip on the arm was hard. He pulled Craig along with him as they went through the kitchen, towards the restroom, Angel stood and followed.

Jerry was holding the phone in his hand as they walked through the kitchen, looking at what appeared to be a business card. "I'm calling the doctor's office." He announced as Bobby pulled the boy on through the room.

Craig felt fear building up as he realized Bobby was planning on taking a look himself. "Bobby, it's not that much." He spoke weakly.

"Shut up. I don't trust a fucking word you say right now." Bobby pulled the boy into the restroom, put the seat down on the commode and sat down, pulling Craig down over his knees as if he were going to spank him. Craig didn't try to pull away, not that it would do him much good. Angel was standing in the doorway, blocking any route of escape if the boy could pull free from Bobby. The downstairs restroom was small, no bath tub, and it was crowded with just Bobby and Craig inside.

Craig could hear Jerry's voice behind Angel as Bobby pulled his sweatpants and underwear down. He started to feel panic working its way through his body. He didn't want anyone looking at his ass. He didn't want to be touched, or poked at. Not even by Bobby, especially with two other brothers standing there watching. "Bobby, please stop?" The boy cried out as he felt his butt cheeks being pulled apart.

"Angel hand me some toilet paper." Bobby seemed to be ignoring the boy's pleas.

Craig felt the paper wiping at him, and heard what sounded like a low growl coming from Bobby. "There's blood." He finally spoke.

"Yeah, he's got blood now." Jerry spoke. Craig realized Jerry was on the phone.

There was a moment of silence. "Craig, does that hurt all of the time or only when you try to go to the restroom?" Jerry asked.

Craig's mind felt as if it were spinning. He could see himself being dragged off to the hospital now, and all kinds of people poking instruments up his ass. He wanted to curl up into a ball and die. He didn't attempt to answer Jerry, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he wasn't sure what the man had said.

Craig cried out when Bobby smacked him hard on his butt cheek. "Answer the question." Bobby spoke loud. "Does it hurt all of the time?"

"Yes." Craig answered, barely audible through his tears. "But it hurts worse when I go."

Jerry repeated the information, his voice barely making it to the boy's ears. He went on asking Craig questions, and repeating the answers over the phone. Was he able to actually go or what he constipated? After he was done did he feel empty, or did he still feel like he had to go? What kind of pain was it? Did it burn? Did it feel like something was cutting into him? Craig answered the questions with enough prodding from Bobby, yes he was able to go, but it never felt like he was done. He had cramps, and it burned and felt like something was cutting into him.

Jerry repeated the information over the phone. "Bobby, is there anything else besides blood?" He asked.

"No, just some blood." Bobby pulled the boy's sweatpants back up.

Craig felt Bobby pulling him up as he stood, holding his arm tight as they made their way back towards the family room. Jerry was still on the phone. He hung up and put the phone down on the coffee table. "He's gonna meet us at the emergency room." Jerry announced. "He said it probably wasn't anything to worry about, but he wants him there to check it out."

Bobby sat the boy down on the couch. "I'm gonna go get your coat. You stay there and don't you fucking move." He turned and walked out of the room.

"I don't want to go to the hospital." Craig muttered. Angel and Jerry both looked at him.

"You know what kid; you don't have much of a fucking choice." Angel spoke. "You could have prevented this by speaking up right away. How long have you been finding blood?"

Craig wiped at his tears, getting frustrated that he couldn't stop them, and feeling as if he had been violated yet again. He'd known it this was going to happen though, he'd known and that was why he hadn't said anything for so long.

"I said how long have you been finding blood?" Angel's voice rose slightly.

"At the hospital," Craig admitted without looking up at Angel.

"What?" Jerry cried out. "And you didn't say anything then?"

"They're gonna poke at it, and…" Craig couldn't finish.

"Yeah, they are, and you ain't gonna fight them either, cause I'll bust your ass right there in front of everyone if you do." Bobby walked in at that moment carrying coats and wearing his own. "They'll make sure you feel better. You stupid little shit." He handed Angel and Jerry their coats and walked over to the couch. "Get this on and let's go." He dropped Craig's coat in his lap.

Craig looked up at Bobby, about to ask him to not make him go to the hospital, but the look on the man's face told him that would be a dangerous move. He kept his mouth shut and pulled on his coat.


	47. Chapter 47

Let me know what you think, and as always thanks for reading!

Still don't own and still make no money.

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**_Chapter 47: Tug of War_**

Craig had no choice but to walk into the emergency room, Bobby held onto his felt arm with a vice like grip, pulling him through the sliding glass doors. He prayed they would have to wait for a long time; he didn't want any doctors checking the part of his body that Bobby had already exposed once for his brothers to see and the longer they had to wait the better as far as he was concerned. Jerry and Angel walked on Craig's right side, Jerry mumbling something about getting sick of emergency rooms and hospitals.

"I'm going to go up and let Jack know what the fuck is goin' on." Angel separated from them just before they reached the front desk.

To Craig's horror, the doctor had already alerted the staff they were coming, and they were taken straight to the back. The doctor was already set up and waiting. It all seemed to happen too fast. Bobby helped him change into a hospital gown, and then helped him up onto the table. Bobby held onto his hand while a nurse checked his vital signs. He was told to lie down, and the doctor explained to his brothers that they were going to use an enema to clean him out, and once that had done its job they were going to use a scope to go in and take a look at what might be causing the bleeding. He told them it could be nothing more than irritation, or a slight tear, or it could more serious, they really wouldn't know until after they had used the scope. When Bobby asked if he and Jerry could stay during the procedure the doctor was adamant that they did stay. The doctor then looked at Craig. "I know you feel anxious right now Craig, but we need to know what is going on with you. We are going to get an I.V. started; you need some fluids because you seem to be a little dehydrated. We're going to give you something to help you relax as well, but it won't put you to sleep."

Craig looked at Bobby, "Bobby, please don't let them…." At that moment he was regretting giving into his need for his brothers' help.

"Don't you start." Bobby spoke firmly, "You need to be checked. No one is going to hurt you. I'm going to be right here with you. Jerry's gonna be here. You think we would let them do anything to you if it wasn't going to help you?"

Bobby stood next to him while they gave him the enema, holding onto his hand. The enema cleaned him out, though he felt a lot of cramping for a while. The I.V. was put into right arm, and soon he started to feel his body relaxing. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been feeling. When it came time he was rolled onto his left side and he had to draw his knees up, he held onto Bobby's hand tight, and the man leaned down so that the only thing he could see was his brother's face. Bobby talked to him the whole time, saying they had been working on plans for making his bedroom bigger at home. Craig didn't hear most of what Bobby was saying. He tensed up when he felt the gloved finger going inside of him first, moving around. Minutes later he felt the scope being inserted. The doctor explained what he was doing as he did it. That didn't really help, except that it prevented him from being surprised when they introduced air and the pressure was uncomfortable. The doctor pointed out the video screen at the end of the table, and pointed out the inflamed tissue that was causing the problem. He seemed satisfied that there was nothing too serious, but he said he needed samples to run tests on to confirm his opinion.

Craig was relieved when the scope was removed. The doctor applied some cream to the area that was hurting so badly. He wrote a prescription for a new antibiotic and a cream to be used at home. Craig was surprised when they removed the I.V. an hour after the scope was removed and he was given two shots. The doctor told him he could go home, but he wanted to see him in two weeks. "And if your little condition doesn't get better in a few days, I expect to see you sooner. Do you understand young man?" He spoke directly to the boy as he helped him sit up.

Craig nodded his head.

Bobby's hand smacked the back of his head instantly, it wasn't painful, just enough to get his attention and remind him to use his voice to answer the man.

"Yes sir." Craig spoke his answer, glancing over at Bobby.

The doctor laughed quietly. "Good." He turned to look at Bobby and started giving him instructions on what to do at home. Warm baths were supposed to help, and using the cream. He also said a high fiber diet and lots of water would help to keep from irritating the area any further. He then turned back to Craig and decided to take a look at the boy's foot. He cleaned it well and re-bandaged it, stating it had seemed a little swollen, and appeared to have been a bit over used. He gave Craig a knowing look, but didn't go into any long speeches, and for that the boy was thankful, he was sure he was going to be getting enough speeches from his brothers. Once the doctor was finished putting the fresh bandage on the foot, he looked at Craig, told him to go home and get plenty of rest, and then left the room.

Bobby looked at Jerry. "He's lucky. I thought for sure he was going to be in here for a while."

Jerry handed Craig his clothes. "Yeah, me too," He nodded his head. "Thought for sure we were all gonna be stuck here all night."

"It's like we're starting all over again, right where we were just after Mom died." He looked at Craig, who was sitting on the table listening to his brothers' words. "Get your fucking clothes on. Jesus, do we have to do that for you?"

Craig slowly started dressing.

"You feel any better Craig?" Jerry asked.

Craig nodded his head. The pain and burning were gone. He did feel the pressure from the air that that had been pumped into him during the procedure, and he felt as if he needed to expel it, but he was afraid to let it go. He still had the feel that he had to go to the restroom, and he was afraid the pain would return if he relaxed. "Yeah," He spoke after a moment, not wanting another smack to the back of his head.

"Good, I want you feeling a damn site better before I bust your ass for this." Bobby reached over and started helping the boy dress. Apparently Craig wasn't moving quite fast enough for him.

"So, what do you think, can we trust him at my house?" Jerry asked.

"I don't know," Bobby started putting the boy's socks on his feet. He glanced up at Craig. "I don't think I'm gonna trust him for a very long time Jerr', what do you think?"

Jerry shook his head. "I don't trust him for shit." He kept his gaze fixed on the boy, "Literally."

Craig felt guilt stabbing at him. "I'm sorry." He muttered, looking from Bobby to Jerry.

"You don't know what sorry means, yet. You have been lyin' to us for days, about everything," Bobby slid Craig's shoe onto his right foot and tied it snugly. He moved to the left foot, showing a little more care with easing the foot into the shoe. "I catch you in any more lies, I don't care how sore you ass already is, I'll put you over my knee." Bobby looked up at him. "Do you understand?" He asked.

"Yeah," Craig felt tension building in his gut. The little voice that had been guiding him through his actions the past several days was now screaming at him that he had made a mistake telling his brothers anything.

"Good, let's get the hell out of here and go find Angel, it's late." Bobby took a hold of the boy's arm and pulled him down from the table.

Jerry pulled out his phone and carried Craig's coat as they walked out of the emergency room. He called Camille and let her know they were on their way. They found Angel sitting in the waiting area when they walked through the swinging doors. He stood as soon as he seen them. "I was about to come back looking for you. They kept tellin' me they would let me know when they knew something, but no one around here seems to ever know anything." He looked down at Craig, and then took up his step next to Bobby. "So I take it he's okay?"

"He's okay. Nothing as serious as it could have been." Jerry answered after hanging up with Camille.

"So, is he up to goin' upstairs? Jack would like to see him if he could." Angel announced.

Bobby pulled his watch up into view, "This late? Hell, Jackie should be sleeping right now." He shook his head.

"Yeah, well, he's finding it hard to sleep at this moment. He wants to have his chance to give the kid what for, before he stops being so pissed off at him for pulling the stupid shit." Angel laughed while looking down at the boy.

Craig felt his fears starting to grow. Now that his brothers knew everything that he'd been lying to them about they were going to start wanting answers that he wasn't sure he could give. He hadn't wanted to end up in the emergency room, and they had made him go. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep, but Bobby would make him, he would make him close his eyes and be trapped in the dark, just like when he was with Sweet. He would make him eat more than he could, and he was sure that a high fiber diet wasn't going to be the most enjoyable, not in the Mercer family kitchen. For Bobby high fiber meant eating lots of beans. They were going to expect him to talk now too, and it was already starting with Jack wanting to see him. He would want to talk. He would want some answers the same as Bobby, Jerry and Angel wanted answers but hadn't been pushing for them yet because he'd admitted to the bleeding.

The little voice inside his head told him he'd made a mistake. He had wanted someone to take care of him because he didn't know what to do, and he'd given into the urge to let his brothers take control, when he knew deep inside that he shouldn't. He'd spent so much time building the walls around him, and he'd let them crumble and fall at the first real challenge.

"Jack is going to have to wait until tomorrow. It's too late. He needs his rest and so does Craig. Tomorrow is a brand new day; and it's probably better if he ain't so pissed when he talks to him. Besides, I'm going to stay pissed off long enough for all of us." Bobby's hand tightened around the boy's arm as they walked out the exit doors. "Call him and tell him we'll be by bright and early, would ya?" He looked at Jerry.

Jerry pulled out his cell phone and dialed the hospital number along with the extension to Jack's room. He spoke quietly into the phone telling Jack that Craig was fine, they weren't keeping him, but they were going on home and would see him in the morning. Apparently Jack didn't argue with the decision much because Jerry didn't stay on the phone long. He looked over at Bobby. "He's cool with it, said he was getting tired anyway, that Angel's little stunt while he was up there didn't help him either." Jerry looked past Bobby to Angel.

Bobby looked over at Angel, "What the fuck did you do?" He didn't look amused.

"Hey, I just left him a good night present, that's all." Angel grinned.

"Well he sounded pretty stressed Angel, so what kind of good night present did you leave him?" Jerry asked.

"I just wanted to leave him something to get him through until morning, that's all." Angel tried to look innocent, but wasn't able to pull it off. He started laughing within seconds. "Man, it was classic. No one was around, so I pulled down my pants and pressed my ass up to the glass on his door, and left a big ole' butt print for him to look at through the night."

Bobby shook his head slowly, but was fighting down a grin. Jerry let out an over exaggerated sigh. "Damn it Angel, when ya' all gonna grow up man? That was the most juvenile thing you could think of, wasn't it?" He scolded.

The ride back to Jerry's was quiet most of the way. As they got closer to the house Jerry glanced into the back seat where Bobby was sitting next to Craig, staring out the window. "So what are we doing? Is he still stayin' with me?" He asked.

A stone settled into the pit of Craig's stomach. He hadn't considered not staying at Jerry's. It was much easier to get by without his brothers around all of the time.

"I don't know Jerr'. He's on restriction now. That means he has to be with someone all the time. Someone has to stand over him and make sure that he eats, someone has to make sure he's sleeping at night, and not playin' his fucking games with us." Bobby glanced over at Craig who was staring at the back of Jerry's seat.

"Well we can't take him to the house." Angel turned enough in his seat to look into the back and see both Bobby and Craig. "It's been hard enough trying to keep warm, even Sofi's been stayin' at her Mama's."

"Ya know, ya' all can stay at the house these next few days. We'll be starting on windows on Saturday, so long as all the material is there on Friday." Jerry offered. "I think we can make sure he's doin' everything he's supposed to be doing that way, and everyone stays warm."

"Actually, I already told Sofi I'd be stayin' with her at her Mama's." Angel looked at Bobby and then at Jerry.

"You pussy, you was gonna leave me in that house by myself?" Bobby asked. "Am I the only one in this family that realizes if we aren't there we'll end up with shit being stolen? We'll have the homeless people taking over, and as I have pointed out in the past, that house ain't no fucking homeless shelter." Bobby grumbled loudly.

"Damn Bobby, settle down. Ain't no one gonna break into that house, the people in that neighborhood thought too highly of Mom for one thing, and they are all too fucking scared of you for another." Jerry glanced back at Bobby again. We got shit sealed up; no one is going to bother a thing. They won't know if anyone is there or not. So why don't you just stay at my house, and that way we can keep our eyes on Craig together?"

Craig hated being talked about as if he wasn't even in the car, but he figured it wasn't a good time to start complaining about that, or anything else that his mind was starting to work up on him He was feeling much better, physically, and it was causing his mental focus to kick back in. He thought about how closely his brothers were going to be watching him now, and he knew the questions would be coming, at least from Bobby, in the morning. He ignored the rest of his brothers' conversation and turned to look out his window, thinking that the men seemed to be too easily distracted to really notice if he was truly listening to them or just going through the motions as he was so used to doing.

It wasn't as if anyone was going to ask him where he'd rather be staying, though if they did he'd tell them he wanted to go home, to his home, to his mother's home. He wanted to feel safe again, and even though having his brothers around would be help with that, being home, in the only safe place he'd ever known in his life was what he really wanted. He didn't care if it was cold, Bobby and Angel had been staying there, and they hadn't frozen to death yet. He needed to feel that connection to his mother. He couldn't even remember what she looked like at that moment, and that realization tore at him. He couldn't close his eyes to think about her because that would throw him into that darkness, and he couldn't stand the thought of that black nothing engulfing his mind. He hadn't seen a picture of her in what seemed forever. He didn't even have his sketch in his pad anymore because he'd been stupid enough to give it to his brothers. He wished he had it now, he wished he had her there to talk to. He wanted his Mom, and he wanted all of the bad memories to go away. If he concentrated hard, he was sure he could block them off again, and he would have to take more care in keeping them contained in that fog in his mind.

Craig was drawn out of his thoughts by a smack to the back of his head from Bobby. "What the hell is with you? Get out of the fucking car." Bobby told him casually.

Craig realized they were parked in the garage and Jerry and Angel were both out of the car already. He opened his door and got out, as Bobby exited on the opposite side.

"You are going straight up to your room." Bobby told him as they walked towards the door, which opened just as they reached it. Camille greeted them and started taking coats. Bobby grabbed Craig's arm as soon they had handed their coats over to Jerry's wife. He pulled him through the house, "Anyone else joining in on this conversation?" He called.

Camille followed them to the bottom of the stairs, grabbing Bobby's shirtsleeve with her free hand, pushing between him and Craig and facing the boy. "Craig, are you okay?" She asked in a gentle voice.

Craig nodded his head. "I'm okay." He muttered when he looked past Camille to Bobby, who was giving him one of his looks.

"Bobby, you keep it quiet up there. The girls were hard enough to get into bed tonight; I don't need you waking them up." Camille turned and looked at Bobby. "You'd best go easy on this child too, he don't need no rough stuff from you. He's still healing, in more ways than one."

The expression on Bobby's face soften slightly, and his mouth turned up into what could turn into a smile, but wasn't quite there. "Don't worry Camille. I love my brothers, and I would do anything for any of them, you should know that. For some reason, this one here needs that extra little push before he can deal with things." He pointed at Craig, "I'm just the one to give him that push, that's all."

Camille smiled softly and rested her hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Well, you do what you think you need to." Her voice was calm and quiet. With no warning her hand hit Bobby on the arm, "But you do it quietly, or I'll kill you."

"Don't worry Camille, I'll keep it down." Bobby laughed.

Camille turned and walked back to where Jerry was standing at the closet door.

Angel walked up, the only one still in his coat. "Man, I gotta go. I'll get the prescriptions filled before I stop by in the morning." He spoke to Bobby.

"Yeah, you ain't gonna get much action with Mama in the next room little brother." Bobby laughed at him.

"Man, why you think it's all about the action? Maybe I just want to spend time with my woman." Angel spoke defensively. He gave Bobby a hard stare when all the man did was laugh. After a few seconds he turned and looked at Craig. "I'll be back in the morning. You're gonna sleep good tonight, that's guaranteed. Just remember, I love ya man." He leaned over and gave Craig a quick hug before walking on through the front door, leaving.

Bobby looked down at Craig. "You know, I do believe I seen tears in his eyes. You remember that the next time you try your shit, it makes your big brother Angel fucking cry."

"Language Bobby," Camille spoke from the closet, where she was hanging up coats.

"Sorry Camille," Bobby smiled, but didn't look back at his sister-in-law. He took back his hold on Craig's arm and pulled him on up the stairs.

Bobby walked Craig into the guest room before letting go of him. "Get yourself changed into something for bed." He walked over and sat on the bed while the boy did what he was told.

Craig changed quickly, into clean long johns and a t-shirt. When he was done he turned and looked at Bobby, who was still sitting on the bed, watching him. "You sit your ass down here." Bobby patted the bed next to him.

Craig walked over and sat, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was letting Bobby take too much control, that he had to put his defenses back up.

"You ready to tell me what the hell Sweet did to you?" Bobby asked.

Craig swallowed hard, he could feel the walls starting to go up in his mind.

"Come on kid. You need to talk about it. You already admitted that you couldn't get it out, and talking will get it out." Bobby sounded calm.

Craig drew in a shaky breath. "I'm tired, can't this wait?" He asked. He was tired, not that it would make much of a difference if he went to bed, because it wasn't as if he were going to be able to sleep. He just didn't want to fall into the trap of letting his oldest brother get too close.

"No, it can't wait. I know you're tired. You're tired because you haven't been sleeping, and you haven't been sleeping because you got all that shit you haven't dealt with. I should have made you talk about it sooner." Bobby kept his gaze on the fourteen year old. "You haven't been able to deal with anything, at all, and I thought you would let me know when you needed to talk. But you didn't until tonight. Don't tell me you didn't want to talk before. You snuck out of this house, and if you didn't do that to get some attention, then it was a wrong move. You definitely got every one's attention. Isn't that what Jack said you do? You do shit to get attention and then once you have it you're afraid of it?"

Craig swallowed back at the fear that was building. "I didn't do it to get attention." He focused his eyes on the closet door and prayed Bobby wouldn't make him look up at him. He wasn't sure if the words were true. He had been feeling that his brothers had made it too easy for him to hide what was really going on in his head.

"You didn't? Then what the hell were you thinking?" Bobby asked.

Craig drew in a shaky breath, not sure if he could tell Bobby what had been going through his mind at the moment he'd walked out of the house. "I wasn't thinking." He muttered.

"You're starting the bullshit. I thought we were past the bullshit between us kid." Bobby reached up and pulled Craig's face around to look at him. "Look, I don't want to do the mean ass big brother bit with you. I don't like beating your ass, but I will if you don't start talkin' to me." His voice was quiet. "I thought we were past me having to pry every last fucking word out of you. What the hell did that son of a bitch do to you to make you pull away from your brothers?"

Craig swallowed hard. "I'm not pulling away…" He started to lie.

"Bullshit." Bobby cut him off. "He grabbed you off the street and drugged you, right?" He asked. "What did he do to you the time that you were with him? Tell me what it was like. Where were you when you woke up?"

Craig shook his head. "I don't know." He spoke weakly, as the memory of waking on the cold cement floor rushed in. "I couldn't see anything."

"You were blindfolded?" Bobby asked.

"Tape," Craig felt his voice quiver.

"What else do you remember?" Bobby pushed.

Craig told him about the cold floor, the gag in his mouth, and the men that were there. Man number one and the sick fucker number two. He told him about the clothes that were missing from his body and how he was tied. He turned his head away and stared at the closet door again, and Bobby let him. He heard himself talking about the words he heard, and the foot holding him down on the floor. He told Bobby only the basic facts, and he tried not to feel the emotions that went with each hit, or touch. He didn't tell him he'd heard his mother speaking to him, and he didn't tell him about Sweet telling him how his brothers didn't care about him, or how Sweet had told him he was the only hope he had of surviving his ordeal, that he'd been told to obey him, no matter what. He didn't tell Bobby any of that because then he'd have to admit that he'd believed the man, and he'd been ready to do whatever he told him to. He stopped his talking when he'd reached the part about being pulled out of the Sweet's car out on the ice lake. He figured Bobby knew everything after that.

Bobby didn't talk right away, possibly waiting to see if the boy was going to say more. When he did speak he kept his voice quiet. "Why do I feel like you aren't telling me everything?"

Craig felt a shiver run through him. He'd been speaking on automatic, and honestly wasn't sure of everything he'd said. He'd tried to keep it limited to just the basic facts, but his mind was hazy as far as the events, and he wasn't sure now if what he remembered was all that accurate. His mind seemed more focused on the touching, and way Sweet had been able to drive the fear straight through to his soul. He didn't try to answer Bobby; he just shook his head slowly.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment. "Craig, come on, you told me what happened, but you didn't tell me how it made you feel. You're still holding shit in. When you told me the truth, before, didn't you feel better?"

Craig looked at Bobby. "How do you think it made me feel?" He asked the man, his voice choking on the tears that were trying to free themselves. He was so sick of crying. He was tired of feeling so bad. "I just want it to go away. I can't get it out of my head, and I don't know how to make it go away."

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Well, maybe you should see someone who knows how to help you deal with it." He offered in a quiet voice, "One of the doctors that you used to see when you were little maybe?"

"The only thing they ever had me do was draw it. I can't draw it." Craig muttered.

"Have you tried to draw anything else?" Bobby asked.

Craig shook his head. "I can't see anything else." He looked away from Bobby again, not sure if he was making sense.

Bobby nodded his head and didn't speak for a long moment. "What was the first thing you seen when the tape came off your eyes Craig?"

Craig thought about the question. "I don't know. I don't remember." He was being honest. He hadn't thought about what he'd seen at that moment. "White," He spoke once he'd thought about it, "Nothing but white."

Bobby reached out and slid an arm around the boy, pulling him closer to him. "When I was coming across that ice, you were the first thing I seen kid. You were looking right at me. You remember that?" He kept his voice quiet.

Craig blinked back at the tears as his memories seem to do a fast forward in his mind, going from the blackness to the white, and the figure that had materialized out of that white. "Yeah," He let his head rest on Bobby's shoulder.

"Jerry was right there, holding onto you, and that was me coming for you. We came for you, and that's what you have to remember." Bobby spoke quietly. "Can you see that in your head at all?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head as the vision of Bobby coming across the ice towards him came back strong. His brother seemed to grow in size as he got closer. Bobby lay back across the bed, pulling Craig back with him. "Close your eyes and keep that picture in your head." His voice was quiet.

Craig listened to what Bobby was telling him despite the fact that the little voice inside his head was screaming at him that he was letting his brother get too close, he was letting him do too much. He needed to take control on his own, and not depend on Bobby; Bobby would be leaving again, now that Sweet was dead. Bobby would leave, and Angel was going to be with Sofi, and Jack would go back to New York, and he would be alone again because Jerry had his own family, and they came first. At the same time he was drinking in the calmness that he felt when Bobby took control and seemed to be able to make him feel safe. He didn't want to listen to that voice and build his defenses back up, he wanted Bobby to keep helping him. But that fear of letting Bobby help him and then leave him later was tugging at him as well.

His mind played the tug of war game with him for a while, the whole time Bobby was talking about how his brothers would help him all they could, but he had to talk to them, and move forward and not let what anyone else had done to him control him anymore. Craig kept that picture in his head, the sight of Bobby coming for him. Sleep came with no warning, and it was peaceful and calming, and somewhere in his mind he thought that if he was making a mistake, he could always change it later, but for the time being, he was content with letting his brother help him.


	48. Chapter 48

Thanks for reading, and for all the nice reviews! Keep letting me know what you think good or bad :)

Disclaimer: Still don't own, still make no money!

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**_Chapter 48: Going Home_**

When Craig woke he was laying in the bed under the blankets. He was lying on his side curled up next to Bobby and for a few moments he felt content, and relaxed. Then his mind started to wake up with the rest of him. He pulled himself away from Bobby and sat up in the dark room. Panic started to simmer deep inside as the blackness brought back the memories of his time spent away from his brothers, with Victor Sweet. He pulled himself back into the corner, trying to keep from crying out. He could feel the handcuffs on his hands and the tape around his feet. He drew his knees up to his chin and hugged on them tight. Just as the panic inside was close to a boiling point he felt movement on the bed next to him.

"Craig?" Bobby's voice reached him though he couldn't see him.

"Bobby, it's dark." He barely got the words out.

The bed moved and moments later the lamp came on. Bobby sat there looking at him; apparently his sleep filled mind trying to take in the scene of the fourteen year old huddled in the corner, staring straight ahead at nothing.

"You're okay Craig. You're at Jerry's." Bobby spoke quietly once his mind seemed to understand. "Did you have a nightmare?" He asked the boy as he moved closer to him.

Craig shook his head slowly.

"Look at me." Bobby's arm snaked around Craig's shoulders. "What was it then?"

"It was dark." Craig felt the panic dying inside of him.

"Yeah, it was. I'll keep the light on." Bobby pulled Craig across the bed and pushed him back into the pillow. "Just relax. You're okay." He lay next to him. "You were sleeping good, what woke you up?"

Craig shook his head and tried to stop the shaking in his hands. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to push the memories back, trying to blank out his mind.

Bobby pulled him closer to him. "Craig, I can't help if you don't tell me what you need. What woke you up?"

Bobby's words and the protective arm he still had around Craig only made it that much more difficult to push away the memories. Craig tried to pull away from his brother.

"Talk to me." Bobby didn't let his younger brother pull away; in fact he used his arm to slide him even closer. "Stop fucking pulling away, you ain't gonna get away from me. Now tell me what woke you up."

Craig stopped struggling, "Nothing." He muttered, still staring up at the ceiling. "I just woke up."

"Can you go back to sleep?" Bobby asked.

Craig shook his head quickly. "No," His answer came with no hesitation.

Bobby sighed. "Craig, do you know how scared we were when they grabbed you?" He spoke quietly. "I thought I was gonna go out of my mind."

Craig was surprised by the words, but he didn't respond to them, he just listened. "Hell, you've been my little brother for seven years, and just when we was starting to get shit straight, they came and dragged you off." Bobby gave the boy a careful squeeze. "I kept thinking about the night before, and how upset you were. You dumped your fucking food that morning, and you told me you didn't want to go to school. I should have let you stay home that day. I never should have let you go out the fucking door." Bobby paused for a few moments. "I thought that day that I'd lost two brothers. I thought I'd lost Jack, and I thought I'd lost you. I never want to feel that again. My brothers are all I got, and shit, I'm supposed to be taking care of you. I didn't do too good a job at that now did I? I was ready to go after you, shooting anyone who got between me and you, and I would have if I'd thought you wouldn't end up getting hurt worse. I had to stop and think, and you know damn good and well that ain't my strong point. Jerry's the one that came up with the plan, at least the start of it. We had to get a good one worked out, because you were at stake, and I wasn't about to put you in anymore danger than you were already in. I love you kid, and I was scared for you."

Craig didn't say anything, he remembered back to his time with Sweet, when he thought his brothers had to be dead, thinking that if they were alive they would have come for him much sooner than they did. He remembered feeling alone, and begging in his mind for them to come for him.

"I feel like I let you down." Bobby's voice was quiet. "I got to you the only way I could. We had to draw Sweet out, before he sent more men after us. We had to use the insurance money, from Ma. Just waiting drove me crazy kid, I couldn't stop thinking of you. Even Jack was more worried about you than himself. But we did get to you, remember that. We got to you and you're safe now."

Craig swallowed hard, and spoke the only words that came to his mind. "I'm really glad you didn't kill Jerry." Glad to not be talking about what he was really feeling inside.

Bobby laughed. "I told you I wasn't gonna kill him." He drew in a deep breath. "I told you we would work it out, and we did. I'm sorry you were worried about that. Your brothers have their own way of talking to each other, and if Jerry had been honest with us from the start, like he should have been, things might have been different. But he honestly didn't know Sweet was involved, or that Ma had gotten involved in his business. She was ready to fight for Jerry, and hell, there I was ready to knock his big ass teeth out of his mouth."

There was quiet for a few moments. "You know, what Sweet did, that wasn't your fault. You know that, right?" Bobby asked the question with no warning.

"I know that. But why did he…?" Craig swallowed at the tears stinging his eyes. "Why does it seem like…?" He couldn't finish the questions.

"Because one sick fucker spreads it to others Craig, but you didn't do anything wrong." Bobby spoke quickly. "Someone dragged you into this, and you know who that was."

Suddenly all of Craig's fears came rushing back to him. "He's going to come back." He muttered, realizing that it wasn't just what Sweet had done to him the time that he'd been trapped in the dark that had him so scared inside.

"Not if we find him first." Bobby spoke with no emotion in his voice. "He's not going to touch you, remember that. He's not coming near you."

Craig finally rolled to his side, into Bobby, and let his brother's arm hold onto him tighter. "Bobby?" He felt the question coming, but couldn't stop it. "Are you going stay here? Or are you leaving now?" Tears burned at his eyes as he expected the worst answer to come from his brother.

Bobby was quiet for a long time. "Well, I hadn't really thought about it kid. I had a job that I left, but hell it's not like it was a career. Without the hockey, I really don't have anything or anyone that I need to get back to, but, I might have to leave for a little while, to get some loose ends tied up." He spoke the words slowly. "No matter what though, I'm still your big brother, and I still hold the papers for you, so don't be thinking that if I do have to leave for a little while that I won't be back, I will."

Craig swallowed at the tears and drew in a shaky breath. "You've said that before." He muttered.

"Yeah, I know. But this time will be different." Bobby kept his voice quiet. "Now why don't you try closing your eyes and seeing if you can go back to sleep? I'm beat."

"I can't." Craig shook his head slightly.

"You need to start thinking about other things Craig. We'll deal the other, but right now, you need to learn how to picture good things in your head so that when you close your eyes you don't think about being in the dark." Bobby sounded tired at that moment. "Think about the night you let your brothers make asses out of themselves at that lawyer's house, what about that? You got a kick out of that, didn't you? Close your eyes and think about that."

Craig remembered the looks on his brother's faces when they realized Mr. Bradford had been more than Evelyn Mercer's lawyer. "Well, I tried to tell you." He muttered as he closed his eyes and could see that evening playing back in his mind.

Bobby continued talk for a while, telling Craig different moments in his life to think about. Things that Craig could picture in his mind that blocked out the dark and kept him from thinking about the trauma that he'd experienced so recently. As Bobby spoke Craig's mind drifted off into a peaceful sleep, with his mind reaching for moments that he had stored away of his mother, and his home, and even of his brothers. Just as he was falling into the peaceful voice he heard Bobby speak one last time. "If you ever tell anyone I laid here and talked to you about this shit like this I'll deny it. Remember that."

When Craig woke again the sun was streaming through the window, and Bobby was sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed and putting on his shoes. His hair was wet, so Craig assumed he had just returned from the shower. Bobby didn't mention the talk from the night before, he just had Craig get out of bed, and gather his clothes together. Bobby went with him to the restroom, removed the bandage from his foot and had him take a bath instead of a shower. Craig took his time, surprised as how good the water felt. It was much better than standing at the sink to wash. After ten minutes Bobby let him stand up and turn on the shower to wash his hair. He took his time, letting the heat from the water soak into every muscle. Bobby finally told him to get out before he used all of the hot water. He dried himself off, and then Bobby had to apply the cream that Angel had apparently already dropped off that morning. Craig cringed at the thought of his brother having to touch him, but Bobby made it quick, and then he was able to dress. Bobby bandaged the foot again before Craig put on his socks and shoes. They went down to the kitchen to find Jerry and Angel sitting at the table going over the same blueprints they'd had laid out the night before. It was obvious Camille had already left to take the girls to daycare. Bobby had Craig sit at the table and started looking through the cupboards.

"Man, what the hell are you looking for?" Jerry looked up at Bobby.

"The doctor said to give him shit with a lot of fiber." Bobby turned and looked at Jerry. "You got any baked beans?"

"For breakfast, you are really gonna give him baked beans for breakfast?"Jerry shook his head. "There are some packs of instant oatmeal up there, give him one of those." He pointed to one of the cupboard doors.

Bobby went to the cupboard and opened it up. "How the fuck are you supposed to make this?" He looked at Jerry.

"Bobby it's not that hard. Read the directions." Angel laughed and looked at Craig. "God help you with that man doin' the cooking."

Craig watched at Bobby struggled with the task, and almost offered to do it himself, but for a change he was enjoying himself. It was humorous watching Bobby try to tear open the first envelope, only to tear it the wrong direction and spill instant oats all over the floor. Jerry ended up taking over the job while Bobby cleaned up his mess.

Soon a dish of oatmeal was sitting in front of the boy, as was a glass of milk. Bobby sat down next to him, but didn't say a word as he looked over the plans and let Jerry and Angel fill him in on what they had decided about the back porch.

Craig stared at the bowl in front of him, and after a few moments he felt Bobby turning to look at him. He picked up the spoon that was sitting in the bowl and started stirring the oats around a little.

"You got ten seconds to start eating, or I'll feed you myself." Bobby warned.

Craig looked at Bobby, knowing his brother meant it. He took the first bite, and really didn't have to chew too much. He continued to eat until the bowl was empty, actually feeling a little better once he was finished.

"You can wash out your bowl and then get your ass back to that chair." Bobby told him.

Craig did what Bobby told him with no argument. He watched as his brothers went over the drawings in front of them. He didn't expect it when Bobby put his arm around him and pulled him closer to point where they were going to be building the back porch out, and making his room and Angel's room bigger.

It was quarter 'till nine when the men started gathering up the plans, saying it was time to go. Bobby handed Craig his coat but no one offered any information as to where they were heading. Bobby and Craig rode in Bobby's car, Angel and Jerry in Evelyn's car. Craig found himself sitting on a bench while his brothers filled out paper work for permits. He studied the men as they argued over different facts that needed to be noted in the papers. Bobby would say one thing, Angel would say another and the response from Jerry was always the same, "Let me handle this, you two don't know a damn thing about this." Craig couldn't help but laugh at them, and it felt good to laugh. He was starting to remember how comfortable he had started to become with his brothers before. He hadn't realized he'd forgotten that. Maybe he hadn't really forgotten, he'd just lost it, and it was coming back. He was feeling a little bit better, and knowing that Bobby was right there was helping a lot.

Once that was taken care of Angel and Jerry left in Evelyn's car, something being said about Jerry having to put some time in at work. Angel had something else that he had to do. Bobby decided it was time for them to visit Jack. Jack seemed happy to see them, though he kept looking at Craig strangely, or so the boy thought. He finally spoke up. "Where the hell is my picture?"

Craig admitted that he hadn't been able to draw one.

Jack gave him a look and nodded his head as if he understood. "Well, you need to work on that." He looked at Bobby. "You've been talking to him?" He asked.

"What the hell do you think?" Bobby looked offended. "I told him if he does any more stupid shit I'll beat his ass."

"So you've talked to him? You told him the same shit you told me?" Jack asked.

Bobby looked at Jack. "I told you your shit; I'll tell him his shit. It's not the same shit." He looked at Craig.

Jack let a small smile crack his lips and he looked at Craig. "You know how I dealt with the crap from my past Craig?" He asked. "I put it into my music. You do the same kind of thing, you put it into drawing. That's a good thing. You won't ever be like this ass hole," He pointed to Bobby, "And that's a good thing. You will always be like you are. That's okay, you need to be who you are, and Mom wanted you to be who you are. But you gotta let us help when the shit get's hard to deal with. You can't hold it in. That's what you do, you hold it all in until it explodes, like it did last night. I know because I used to do the same thing. It took a lot of work from Mom, and my brothers, to help me get past that. Hell sometimes I find myself still doing it." He reached out and took a hold of Craig's hand, pulling him down to give him a hug.

Craig hugged him back, understanding Jack's words, and finally comprehending that this was the only brother that really understood what was done to him. The times that Jack had told him they had similar pasts finally hit him like a bolt of lightning. Jack wasn't talking about the being hit part; he was talking about all of it. Craig hadn't wanted to see that before, though it was so obvious. Jack had been touched in the same ways, by people that were mean, and he was okay, mostly. He admitted that it still bothered him, but he was okay. That meant that there was hope for him, right?

"Jesus, look at my fucking little sisters, all cozy and warm." Bobby spoke sarcastically. "You're both pushing your luck here." He warned. "I'll leave if you keep it up."

"Bobby, shut the fuck up." Jack let Craig pull away. "So, he gave you a good talking to last night?" He asked.

Craig glanced over at Bobby. "Yeah, he did. But he said he'd deny anything if I told anyone what he said." He muttered. "He got a little sentimental."

"Alright that's enough. The kid knows he's gonna get it if he keeps up his crap, okay? That's all that need's said about it." Bobby gave Craig a warning glare, but the boy had to smile at him.

They stayed at the hospital until Jack told them to go, that he was tired and needed some rest. Bobby took Craig back to Jerry's house and gave him lunch, baked beans. Craig didn't argue about the meal, he didn't want to get Bobby upset. The man was already grumbling about what he'd said to Jack.

After he ate, Bobby sat with him in the family room. The man watched T.V., and Craig sat with his sketch pad, looking through the pictures. He came to the sketch he'd done of Jerry, in the bowling alley, and he stared at it for a long while as his mind flashed back to that night, and the feelings he'd had. He'd been afraid of his brothers leaving him. He'd been afraid of what was going to happen between them, and that his family was going to fall apart. He looked at Bobby, who was holding the remote control out towards the television, changing the channels in a constant, steady rhythm. He turned the page in the sketchbook and put his pencil to the paper. He stared at the blank page and tried to close his eyes to find something in his mind that he could get out and onto the page. He opened his eyes again and looked at Bobby, remembering his brother's words from the night before, when he'd told him to describe what he'd seen out on the ice lake. He remembered his feelings when he'd looked up and seen the form of his brother coming his way. He looked back down to the paper and let the pencil start moving. Once he had that first mark on the page the rest came, not as easy as he was used to, but it came. He had to use the eraser a few times, something he wasn't used to doing often unless he was trying to blend features, but he managed after a lot of effort to get the picture out of his head and onto the paper. Once he finished with that picture, he turned the page and moved on, thinking less and less about what he was drawing and just letting his fingers move. He let his senses soak in the feel of the paper under the pencil, and he let his mind wonder into places he'd been avoiding. He heard Bobby say something to him once and answered with a quiet, "Okay." Though he wasn't sure what he was saying okay to. He kept drawing, and Bobby didn't bother him after that.

When Camille came home with the girls she checked in on the two in the family room and found Bobby asleep in the chair, and Craig too involved with his sketch pad to pay much attention to anything she had to say. When she asked him what Bobby had given him for lunch he answered with the truth, "Baked beans," But he didn't look up from the book of paper.

When Jerry came home he woke Bobby up and the two of them sat in the chairs and talked quietly. Craig could feel their eyes on him, but he ignored them. His mind was finally letting things out, and he didn't want to stop. He could feel the pressure lifting off of him, and the fog in his mind was clearing.

He didn't want to stop to eat, but he didn't argue when Bobby took his sketch pad from him and said it the food was on the table. He wasn't hungry, and he could still taste the baked beans Bobby had served him at lunch. He ate what was put in front of him, though he ate slowly. He knew he didn't have much choice. While the rest of the family ate macaroni and cheese, green beans and pork chops, he found himself with whole grain toast, and a salad. He couldn't help but think everyone was taking the high fiber thing to the extreme.

After Camille had cleared the girls' settings from the table, and had taken them upstairs, Bobby started talking about having to go home and check on things. Craig was still finishing his salad. He looked at Bobby. "Are you coming back?" He asked, almost feeling panicked at the thought of having to be alone in his room at Jerry's.

"I'll probably stay the night at the house. Don't worry though, Jerry will be here and he already said he'd keep a close eye on you tonight." Bobby told him carefully. "That means he's gonna be right there and if you have any problems he'll help."

Craig felt his heart starting to ache immediately. "Why can't I come home with you?" He asked the question before he could stop himself. The fear of Bobby leaving him was growing. His little voice was shouting 'I told you so' at him for letting his self cling to Bobby, even if it had only been for one day.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and started to speak but Jerry beat him to it. "Let him go with you Bobby." Jerry looked at the man. "For some unexplainable reason he seems to need to be with you. Hell, you've been with him all day, and he's totally different when you're around."

"Like you said before, the house is still pretty torn up. It's cold, it's…" Bobby started to speak.

"We've got most of the work on the inside. Maybe he just needs to be back in Mom's house." Jerry looked at Craig. "You wanted to go home from the start, didn't you?"

Craig looked down at his salad. "Yeah." He muttered.

"Why didn't you just say so at the time? Instead of holding it in and doin' what you thought we wanted you to do?" Jerry asked.

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "You seemed pretty excited about me coming here." He muttered.

Jerry laughed and looked at Bobby. "Did you hear that?" He shook his head. "Boy, you've been a Mercer long enough to know that you need to speak your mind. You would not have hurt my feelings if you'd said you wanted to go home."

Craig shook his head. "I didn't want to be in the way. It made it easier for every one if I was here." He looked at Jerry and then at Bobby. "But I want to go home." He couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice.

"Yeah, and I would probably have made you come here anyway, Jerry was so convincing at the hospital when he came up with this plan." Bobby looked at Jerry. "I'll go get his shit together. You make sure he eats all of his food." He stood and walked out of the room.

Jerry sat back in his chair. "You know, the house is not a pretty sight right now. You sure you can handle it?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head. "I'll be fine." He muttered. "It's still home."

* * *

When Bobby pulled his car into the drive behind the house, the sun was mostly gone from the sky. Craig stared at the house for a long moment before looking at Bobby, who didn't say a word as he climbed out of the car and got Craig's bags from the back seat.

Craig followed his brother's lead, staying behind him as they walked to the back door. Bobby held the door open for him and turned on the kitchen light as they walked in. The house didn't feel too bad. Craig was expecting it be freezing, but it was warm enough to pull off his coat. Bobby carried his bags to the dining room and dropped them down on the table. "You can carry your own shit up to your room later." He spoke casually.

Craig felt butterflies circling around in his stomach as he stepped into the dining room. He could see the bullet holes in the cabinets that lined the walls. He could smell fresh paint from where the walls had been patched and painted. His eyes caught sight of some damage to some of the photographs that were hanging on the wall. He could tell they had been put into new frames, but there were still holes and tears in most of them. There were a few that were completely missing. Bobby led him on through to the living room. He held his breath for a long moment when he seen the windows patched over with heavy plastic. The air was a little cooler but not too bad. His chest constricted when he looked around, finding so much gone. The record player was missing and the television was gone. The knick-knacks that his mother had collected over the years were mostly missing, except for a few pieces that were missing chips and chunks.

Bobby leaned over the fireplace and set to work at starting a fire. Craig looked above him at the mantel, where some holes were still present. Some had been patched with caulk, but not painted over yet. Then his eyes raised above the fireplace, to the line of three new frames hanging there, each containing one of his drawings. Tears started falling as his gaze came to his mother's face, looking at him with the mischief behind her eyes.

Bobby got the fire started quickly, and stood, turning to the boy, ready to say something, but stopping before he got a word out. He looked up at the picture Craig was staring at. "You know, I asked her to keep an eye on you until we could get to you." He spoke in a quiet voice.

Craig looked at Bobby, the sobs taking over as he remembered hearing his mother's voice while he was trapped in the dark. Bobby stepped over to him and put his arms around him. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea?" He sounded worried. "I mean, you have a lot of shit to deal with, maybe being here is gonna make it harder."

"She talked to me." Craig buried his face in Bobby's shirt and let himself cry. "She told me you were coming, and I didn't think it was real. I thought I was making it up." He hung onto Bobby. "I thought you were dead. I thought you wouldn't come." He admitted, unable to hold it in.

"You thought what?" Bobby gave him a hard squeeze.

"He told me you didn't really care about me, or want me, and I thought that if you did you would come for me." Everything that he'd been holding back was rushing out now. All the feelings that he'd held back when he'd told Bobby what had happened to him with Sweet came pouring out. "I was so scared, and I didn't think you were coming." He cried.

"But we did. Didn't we?" Bobby seemed surprised by the sudden tears and emotion coming. "Craig, you knew we were coming, you knew that."

"I didn't." Craig shook his head.

Bobby walked the boy over to the couch. "Why didn't you tell me this last night?"

Craig clung hard to the man as they sat on the couch, unable for a moment to answer him.

"What else didn't you tell me?" Bobby pushed, letting the boy cry, holding onto him. "Come on Craig, you're ready to let it out. You been waiting to get home for this? What is going on in that head of yours? Tell me."

"I can't remember what she looks like." Craig cried. "I can't remember how she sounded." He held onto Bobby even tighter.

"I know." Bobby gave him a squeeze. "I feel the same way." He spoke quietly.

"I miss her." Craig admitted. "And I'm afraid of what's going to happen without her."

"What do you think is going to happen?" Bobby kept his voice quiet. "You afraid we aren't going to stick around?" He seemed to remember the question Craig had asked the night before about him leaving.

Craig didn't answer the question. He just held onto Bobby tighter. "I'm sorry." He muttered. "I tried to stay out of the way. I tried to make it easier, but it didn't work." He started to pull away from Bobby, but the man pulled him right back.

"You ain't getting out of this so easy kid. You started something, now you are going to finish it. What the hell did that mean? What do you mean you tried to stay out of the way? What the hell did you mean when you said you didn't think we would come for you? Because now you got me wondering about what the hell you've been trying to do the past few days. You been trying to deal with what Sweet did to you by yourself because you thought you would be causing problems if you came to us?" Bobby shook his head. "That's what family does Craig, we help each other through this shit." His voice came out strong.

Craig shook his head. "My dad was there." He wasn't sure where the words were coming from; it was if he couldn't keep his thoughts straight in his head, they were coming too quickly. "He didn't care that Sweet was going to do anything to me, he just…" He couldn't find the words to complete his thoughts. "He could have stopped him."

"Craig, that man is not your Dad. He's not your family." Bobby spoke quietly. "He never cared about you. I know all about Adam Macks. I know what the fuck he did to you, and made you do. You were a little boy, and tiny little boy, and you were hurt in ways that I can't relate to, but I know you can get past it, if you let us help. He wasn't going to try to save you, but we did."

Craig wasn't sure how long they sat there with him clinging to Bobby, and Bobby holding onto him. They talked, and Craig told Bobby every feeling and emotion that had been stabbing at him for the past week. His feelings while he was laying in the snow, with Jack bleeding on top of him, all the way up to waking up in the hospital, after having a complete melt down the night before with Green in the room. Bobby let him talk without saying too much, but the man would speak from time to time, offering encouragement to keep talking. Craig told him how he'd tried to shut off his feelings because they were too hard to deal with, and he'd tried to stop feeling, but it hadn't worked, it had only built up and gotten worse.

Eventually the strength was sapped from the boy, and he just cried until he fell asleep.


	49. Chapter 49

I'm going for an even 50 here, so there will be one more chapter and then this will be done. Let me know what you think, and thanks to all for reading! :)

Legal stuff still counts

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**_Chapter 49: Brothers_**

The next morning Craig woke to Angel's mumbling about damn shoes being left in the middle of the room. When he opened his eyes he found he was on the couch with a blanket covering him. Bobby was on the other end of the couch, his legs squeezed in between Craig's back and the back of the couch. Craig started to move, but realized the coffee table had been pulled over against the couch on his end, apparently to prevent him from falling to the floor if his brother decided to kick him off the couch. He sat up slowly, his body resisting the movement, his muscles turning stiff.

Angel was picking Craig's shoes up out of the middle of the floor. "What the hell are these doing in the middle of the floor? I just about killed myself on them."

Craig fought down a yawn. "I didn't put them there." He commented honestly, his shoes had been on his feet when he'd fallen asleep, "How can you kill yourself on shoes? That's stupid." Craig's tired mind was thinking the words, but he didn't realize he'd actually spoken them.

"Don't be a smart ass." Angel warned. "I tripped right over them. You need to keep your shoes picked up out of the middle of the floor."

"So shoot them that will teach them a lesson." Craig let his body ease back down to the couch and closed his eyes. "What are you doing here anyway?" He asked, remembering that Angel was supposed to be at Sofi's mother's house.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here? You ain't supposed to be here." Angel tossed one of the shoes at the older Mercer still snoring on the couch, but it only bounced off the back cushion and landed on the table with a thump. "Bobby!" His voice was loud.

"Jeeze, Angel, shut up." Craig muttered and let his body relax.

"Bobby, wake up." Angel threw the other shoe, hitting Bobby in the stomach.

"Angel, you'd better have a damn good reason for waking both of us." Bobby didn't open his eyes, or react to the shoe in any way. "Cause this kid kept me us all fucking night, and we're both tired. So what do you want?"

"What is he doing here for one thing, it's almost eleven for another, and Jerry's been trying to call you for two hours. He called and made me drag my ass out of a nice warm bed to come over here and find out what the fuck was wrong." Angel's voice was still loud.

"What? As you can see, nothing is wrong, we were sleeping. And we would both like to stay right where we are, sleeping for just a little bit longer. Why don't you make yourself useful since you're here and go start breakfast?" Bobby held his hand out pointing towards the kitchen, but still hadn't opened his eyes.

Angel turned started towards the dining room, "Breakfast? By the time you get your sorry ass off the couch it'll be time for lunch." There was a moment of quiet, and then Angel called out from the dining room. "Craig, come and get your shit off this table now!" He went on to grumble about the table not being for storage.

"Angel is not a morning person." Bobby muttered.

Craig opened his eyes and looked at Bobby, who was still lying with his eyes closed. "Sorry I kept you up so late." He muttered.

"You feel better?" Bobby asked and finally opened up his eyes to look down the couch at the boy.

Craig nodded his head, "Yeah." He made himself sit up.

"Then stop sayin' you're sorry. I'll make you pay for it later by working your ass off in here." Bobby also sat up, pulling his legs out from behind Craig. "We can't sleep on this thing anymore, I feel like a damn pretzel, all twisted out of shape." He stretched his arms and twisted his neck around, causing snapping and popping. "Come on, let's get moving. We need to go see Jack, and then we need to get back here and take care of a few things before Jerry shows up tomorrow to 'inspect the place'." He mimicked Jerry's voice with his nasally, whiny voice as he pushed the coffee table out of the way. "Go get your shit off the table before the big black guy in there throws a fucking tantrum."

Craig had his bath, and then finished up with the shower, just as he had the day before. Bobby applied the cream, though Craig tried to talk him into letting him do it himself, his words went unheard it seemed. Bobby took his shower while Craig dressed and put a clean bandage on his foot. Bobby inspected his work and seemed to approve, making a remark that he could change his own bandage in the future. Angel had lunchmeat sandwiches waiting when they came downstairs, and Craig was thankful that there didn't seem to be a high fiber anything in his. He took his pills after he ate, as he had been, and then helped clean the table. It felt good to be home.

Angel told them he would meet them at the hospital later and then left to go, saying that he had some things to check on. When Bobby asked him what 'things', Angel wouldn't tell him, and Craig had an odd feeling come over him; it sounded a lot like the conversation that had passed between the two in the restroom the same morning they had found out about Jerry's business, councilman Douglas and Victor Sweet. Bobby seemed to be in a rush to get to the hospital once he'd eaten and had some coffee. Craig asked him if he could take his sketch pad with him and the man shrugged his shoulders. "Why should I care if you take that book full of pencil scratches with you?" Two weeks earlier Craig would have taken that to mean Bobby didn't care for his drawing so much, but now he knew better, and he felt some comfort when he realized the difference in how he heard Bobby's words now. He didn't hear the cynical tone that he'd heard before, he heard amusement.

They were informed at the hospital that one of Jack's drainage tubes was going to be removed, so that he would only have to deal with one. They were saying that he may be released sooner than they had first predicted, he was doing very well. They had about thirty minutes to visit with Jack before they were going to sedate him and take him down to surgery for the procedure. Jack looked tired, but anxious about surgery, even if it was considered a fairly simple one.

Jack looked at Craig and smiled, and then his gaze moved to the sketch book. "You've been drawing?" He asked.

Craig nodded his head, and just as Bobby's arm started to move to smack him he spoke quickly, "Yeah."

"Did you draw my picture?" Jack asked.

Craig swallowed hard. "Yeah, but I don't know if you'll want it." He muttered.

"Why wouldn't I want it?" Jack asked, looking confused.

Craig opened the sketch pad to the last picture he'd drawn. It was the sketch he'd worked on for so long after he'd finished the one of Bobby walking towards him on the frozen lake. He turned the pad so Jack could see it. "I can do another one, this one just happened, and I…" He muttered.

Jack looked at the drawing for a long moment before his left index finger found his teeth. The man chewed on his finger for a long time before drawing a deep breath. "This is perfect." He finally looked up at Craig and smiled.

Bobby leaned past Craig to look at the paper in Jack's hands. The Mercer house stood against a summer sun, with leaves in the trees behind it. The neighborhood kids were running up the street in bare feet, wearing shorts and thin summer shirts. On the front steps the form of Evelyn Mercer was sitting with her knitting, smiling at the laughter rising from the youngsters. The perspective was done from a distance so that he hadn't had to put too much detail into her face. He hadn't been able to picture her very well in his mind at the time, but he had managed to get as much of her on the paper as he could.

"It feels warm." Jack looked at Craig. "I love it. It's just what I needed." He reached out and pulled Craig to him in a hug. "You don't know how much I needed this." He whispered in his ear.

"Yes I do." Craig whispered back.

The nurse, Sarah informed them that when Jack came back he would sleep for several hours. Bobby and Craig said their goodbyes to Jack as they were preparing him to leave. Bobby promised Jack someone would be there when he woke.

"If it's Angel I'll kill him." Jack warned. "He's been driving me crazy."

"He's just trying to keep you entertained little brother." Bobby laughed.

Craig tore Jack's picture from his sketch pad and left it on the stand next to his bed before Bobby told him they had to go.

When they got home, Bobby decided it was time for the youngest Mercer to put some work in on the house. He showed him how to fill the holes that were still left on the mantle and sand them down once the caulk was dry. Once the caulk was smooth they painted over it so that they blended in with the white paint of the mantle. Bobby stopped and called Angel a few different times, telling him to stop and pick up some Chinese food after he left the hospital. Jerry showed up about six thirty, just before Angel came home. Jerry hadn't eaten dinner yet, and accepted the invitation to eat with his brothers, but insisted they were going to eat at the dining room table, and they were going to use paper plates, no eating right from the cartons, as Bobby was well known for.

They all sat down at the table, and started filling their plates. Bobby filled Craig's, which felt normal to the boy now. He was doing fine, feeling good as Bobby put chicken in a sweet and sour sauce on his plate, some broccoli and carrots, and some wonton on his plate. He felt his insides turn to jelly as Bobby started dishing out rice. He swallowed at the sensation that seemed to hit him. His mind remembered the few bites of half cooked rice that he'd been given while he was being held by Victor Sweet.

His brothers were talking and making jokes, but Craig couldn't really hear them, his mind was being pulled back to that rice being fed to him while he was trapped in the dark.

"I can't eat that." Craig looked at Bobby who was in the middle of saying something to Jerry.

Bobby turned and looked at him. "What?" He looked confused.

"I can't eat the rice Bobby." He muttered.

"What do you mean you can't eat the rice?" Angel spoke from his seat at the table.

"Please? I'll eat twice as much chicken." Craig felt panic rolling around inside of him. "I can't eat the rice."

Bobby looked at him, concern creasing his features. "Why can't you eat it? You like rice."

Craig tried to find the words to explain to Bobby. "That's what they gave me." He finally muttered.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and started spooning the rice off of the boy's plate. "Okay, no rice for you." He nodded his head.

"I'm sorry." Craig muttered.

"It's okay." Jerry spoke quickly. "At least you said something. That's a good sign. We want you to tell us that kind of stuff Craig. We need to know."

"Yeah, I'll make a mental note that you can't eat rice." Bobby looked at him. "You're good with what's there now? You're gonna be able to eat that without me making threats?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I'll try." He muttered.

"You know, on Friday, the building materials come, and since we're all gonna be here, we could start the big jobs after the delivery, as long as we can get all of the inside work done." Jerry looked at Bobby. "What do you think?"

"Well, if they are gonna be sending Jack home early, it wouldn't hurt to get started a day early, so long as they deliver the shit early enough. We can work on tonight, and tomorrow on the patching and painting." Bobby looked at Angel. "What about you?"

Angel nodded his head. "I'm gonna be here. We may as well do something with the time. I'll let Sofi know. She'll want to help."

"You mean she'll want to keep her crazy ass as close as possible to keep you out of trouble." Bobby laughed.

Craig was surprised at how easy it had been for him to get out of eating the rice. His brothers were going back to their jokes as if everything was fine. He felt relieved by the fact that no one had felt it necessary to question him further. He picked up his fork and started eating slowly. Bobby looked over at him from time to time, but didn't pressure him to eat any faster than he was. He felt more relaxed than he had since he'd been out of the hospital. The little voice inside his head kept trying to tell him it was too good to be true, it was going to blow up in his face and something bad was going to happen, but he ignored it, trying to believe that there was nothing that could be worse than what had already happened to him in the past two weeks.

He'd already lost his mother, and he'd been hurt in ways that he'd never dreamed he could be hurt along with old hurts that he'd never thought he'd have to live through again. He still felt sick inside at the thought of the things Sweet did to him, and he probably wouldn't get over any of them for a long time. As bad as it had been, in the past two weeks he'd found he had four brothers, and they all seemed to truly care about him. His oldest brother, the one whose attention he'd tried to get for so long, noticed him now, and it seemed he'd always noticed him, just not the way the youngest had been expecting. In fact all of his brothers had noticed him for all of those years. It seemed it may have been Craig's own fears of being rejected that had kept them from being real brothers before. He had that now, and he didn't want to lose it. At the same time, the fear of doing something to ruin it also loomed there, in his mind, with the little voice that was struggling for him to listen.

As he thought of the holes he'd filled in the mantle, he wondered if he could fill the holes in his emotions the same way. Fill them with something stable, and cover them over so that they weren't noticeable. He wasn't sure if it was possible, but he could try. It had to be better than trying to hide them in the fog of him mind, that hadn't worked. He wasn't strong enough to hold it all in. He was thankful that he'd given into his need to let his brothers take control, and lead him out of that fog, now if he could just control that fear of doing something to drive them away everything would be as close to perfect as it could be without his mother there.

Angel had told them that Jack might get to come home as soon as Monday, and Craig couldn't wait for him to get home. He had a feeling he could talk to Jack about things that he couldn't talk to Bobby about, now that he understood that Jack knew what he'd been dealing with, first hand. Bobby had said it himself, he could only imagine what it was like to have someone touch you like that, and force themselves on you. Jack knew what it was like, and understood the feelings that were pulling him in so many directions, and the confusion.

Bobby waved his hand in front of Craig's face as they were finishing the meal, pulling the boy out of his thoughts. Craig looked up at Bobby. "What?"

"I told you to hurry the hell up; we got shit to finish up here." Bobby shook his head slowly.

Craig looked down at his plate and was actually surprised to find he'd eaten most of his food. He poked at a broccoli spear and took a bite of it.

Jerry laughed. "You were in deep thought there kid, what were you thinking so hard about?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing."

No one pushed him any further for details on his thoughts, and Craig did his best to keep his mind focused in the present and not in his memories, or on the fears stirring around inside of him. If he didn't think about them they wouldn't haunt him.

After the dinner table was cleared away Jerry decided he needed to check on the work that had been done in his absence while Angel felt the need to call Sofi. It seemed what they had done that afternoon met with Jeremiah Mercer's standards. He checked his watch and told them that he would haveto get home if he was going to be there again the following evening. "Gotta spend some time with the family tonight, but I'll be able to stay later tomorrow. I expect to see more of these holes filled, and I want to see some decent painting, none of tha sloppy shit ya' all tried to lay on the walls over the weekend." He looked directly at Angel when he made the statement.

After Jerry left, Bobby let Craig help with a few more holes in the mantel, but then said they could call it a night and relax. "We'll go see Jack in the morning for a couple of hours, and then get some real work done tomorrow night."

Bobby turned on an old radio that had been brought downstairs and the three of them sat in the living room, the men drinking beer, and Craig drinking water. Craig listened to stories that he'd heard a hundred times, but was glad to listen to them. He couldn't help but think of the versions his mother had told him before, and compared them in his mind. She'd been so amused by the way her older sons' stories seemed to stray so far from what actually happened.

Craig fell asleep on the couch, listening to the sounds of his brothers' laughing, and although Bobby had remarked that morning that they couldn't sleep there again, he wasn't surprised to wake up in almost the exact same position the following morning, feeling stiff and sore. The day followed the same pattern as the previous day, but Bobby ordered pizza for dinner instead of Chinese, and Jerry didn't join them for the meal, he called and said he wouldn't be able to get there until seven, that he had to stop somewhere on his way over. That meant no paper plates, and they ate at the coffee table.

When Jerry did arrive, he had to inspect the work that had been done, as he did the night before. Bobby followed Jerry around, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking the man behind his back while Jerry pointed out small flaws in the workmanship, and was explaining what needed to be done to improve the appearance of the patch job on the mantle. Craig tried to hide his amusement, but when Jerry turned around unexpectedly to catch Bobby mocking him he had to laugh at the looks on both men's faces.

Jerry pulled Craig over to the fireplace and started pointing out what was wrong with his work. "It's not a bad job for your first time, but you ain't never gonna know the right way if you aren't told, you know?" He spoke calmly. "I'm just gonna teach you the right way, that's all. We can't have you learning it wrong, how are you ever gonna be able to work for me when you're older if you don't know the right way?"

"Who says I'm gonna work for you?" Craig asked while he watched Jerry get out the caulk gun.

"What, you don't want to be a part of my company?" Jerry asked. "You got a gift, and believe it or not, construction is a form of art." He went on about designing and creating buildings and everything that went into it while he worked on filling the last of the holes. He worked, not really paying that much attention to Craig as he spoke. Bobby sat down on the couch, shaking his head, and smiling. He motioned for Craig to join him on the couch as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

Craig looked at Jerry, and then back to Bobby, who waved him over again. He stepped around the table and sat next to Bobby, who dropped an arm around him. They watched silently while Jerry continued working and talking. Ten minutes later Angel appeared in the dining room doorway. He leaned against the door frame, looking at Jerry for a few seconds and then looking at Bobby with a confused expression on his face. Bobby shrugged his shoulders with a grin on his face. "Hell Angel, he's doin' all the fuckin' work himself. I sure ain't gonna stop him, are you?" He asked in a loud voice.

Angel grinned. "Yeah that's what happens when someone thinks they know everything, right?"

Jerry stopped working and looked at Angel first, then turned to the couch to look at Bobby and Craig. "Look at ya' all. Hell if you ain't gonna help then go get the shit I got out of the back of the car."

Bobby's grin dropped. "What you got in the back of your car?" He asked seriously.

"Just some things for the house, important shit, just go get it." Jerry turned back to his work.

Bobby stood. "Come on Angel, Craig you sit here and watch Jerry close now, you might learn something."He laughed and he and Angel went to the kitchen to go out the back door since Jerry had parked out back.

Craig looked up at Jerry who was now smiling at him. "Now that I have your full attention…" He turned back to the task he'd been working on and started explaining the proper way to hold the caulk gun.

Minutes later Angel walked in with what appeared to be their mother's record player. "Damn Jerry, how did you get this fixed?" He walked it over to the shelf where it had set for years.

"Evan likes to tinker with shit like that. He had some spare parts and was able to get it working." Jerry turned and watched Angel set the player up and plug it in. "Come on man, let's get some tunes goin'." He urged as soon as Angel stood back, staring at the piece of their mother that apparently all of them had missed, not just Craig.

Moments later Bobby walked in carrying a box. "Where did you find this shit Jerr'?" He set the box on the coffee table.

"Second hand shops mostly. Camille's been hunting them down." Jerry smiled. "So, what do you think? There were a few she couldn't find, but most of them are there."

Craig leaned forward to look into the box of records. Within minutes there was music playing, and his brothers were talking about growing up listening to the sounds filling the house. Craig sat back into the couch, closed his eyes and let his mind drift along with the music. He thought back to his mother teaching him to dance in the living room to the same songs that were now filling the air, and he realized that all though he'd been glad to be home, it truly felt like home now, even with the windows patched over with wood and plastic, and holes in the walls that needed patched. It felt as if his mother were there now.


	50. Chapter 50

I want to thank all for the reviews, everyone has been great! This was my first story, and it's been fun :) Of course, there is is still Adam Macks to deal with, so...

Let me know your thoughts...

Legal stuff still counts..

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**_Chapter 50: Moving On_**

Craig watched his brothers do most of the work. From time to time one of them would have him hold something for him, or would decide to teach him something, but his foot would start hurting after a while and he'd have to sit down. His back and stomach seemed to be doing better; he wasn't having the pain he'd been having before. There was some baseboard that had to be pulled away from the wall to be replaced, and Jerry handed him a claw hammer, had him sit on the floor and showed him the easiest way to get the task accomplished. He was actually enjoying listening to his brothers' stories at they worked. He laughed when they teased Jerry about being such a perfectionist and Bobby and Angel got into a fight about who had had the most girls after them in school. Jerry just shook his head and continued working, though Bobby and Angel seemed to have to stop their work to argue.

Craig had felt his mind saving pictures throughout the evening. Good memories that he could get down on paper and keep forever. He was glad to finally be able to concentrate on something good for a change.

It was getting close to nine o'clock when Jerry announced he was going to have to go. "We got quite a bit done tonight." He nodded with satisfaction as he looked around the room. "Now, so long as the truck shows up on time in the morning we'll be set."

"Yeah, Jerr' we'll see you at what time?" Angel asked.

"About nine thirty." Jerry started picking up tools and cleaning up.

"Leave that. Get home to your wife." Bobby spoke quickly. "We'll get that."

Jerry didn't argue with the offer, he only warned Bobby he didn't want to find the mess still there when he arrived the next morning. Bobby had Craig help them pick up the tools and use the broom on the floor.

It was after nine thirty when Bobby took him upstairs to his room. "You think you can sleep okay on your own tonight?" Bobby asked. "Ma's room is kind of cold and I don't want you getting sick. Your bed is too small for two people."

"Yeah, I'll be okay." Craig answered. He hadn't had any nightmares, and the fear of the dark seemed to have subsided so he didn't see any reason for having to sleep with Bobby. "Can I keep my light on?" He asked after considering the fact he hadn't slept in the dark for a while.

"Yeah, you can keep your light on, and you can keep the door open. Me and Angel have a few more things we need to be working on downstairs, if you need anything you yell." Bobby watched Craig change into clothes to sleep in. "You're on restriction, don't forget that. If you step one foot out of this room you're in for it. If you need to take a piss, or want a drink of water you yell and one of us will come up."

"Okay." Craig nodded his head as he got into his bed. "Can I draw for a while?" He asked without lying back in the bed.

"No, you cannot draw for a while, you look tired, go to sleep." Bobby shook his head. "You ain't had one of your little naps today, so you won't have any problem sleeping."

"Just for thirty minutes?" Craig pushed. "I'm really not that tired, and I…"

"I said no. Don't push it. You'll have all the time you need to do your pencil scratchin' tomorrow." Bobby shook his head. "Go to sleep."

"But…" Craig started to tell Bobby that it would help him to relax, but the man cut him off with a loud voice.

"You want to argue with me?" Bobby looked surprised.

"No, I just…" Craig started again, suddenly regretting opening his mouth.

"I never gave you that ass beating for all the shit you pulled at Jerry's, you want that now? You need to be reminded that when I tell you something you fucking listen to me?" Bobby's voice sounded strained. "I thought I would be able to let that one go, since your ass was already tore up and you started talkin', but if letting that one slide has given you the idea that you can argue with me I will give it to you right now. You still got that one hangin' over your head, don't forget it."

Craig looked away from Bobby, surprised that his eyes were starting to pool with tears. "Sorry." He muttered.

"Lay your ass down." Bobby still spoke with the warning in his voice, "Right now before I take off my belt and start burnin' your backside."

Craig lay back in the bed, letting his head rest into the pillow.

"I'll check on you, you'd best be asleep." Bobby walked out the door without saying another word.

Craig rolled over onto his left side, putting his back to the door. He was mentally kicking himself for screwing up. He should have just done what Bobby told him, without questioning it, but he had the urge to draw, and he truly hadn't meant to be disrespectful to the man, he had simply thought that they were getting along good and Bobby would understand if he explained it to him. He drew in a shaky breath and wiped at the few tears that had managed to slip out after Bobby left the room. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, like Bobby had told him, but he wasn't feeling tired at all. His heart was racing, and that little voice in his head was telling him he had screwed up, he'd let himself feel comfortable with his brothers and he should have known better.

He rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if he was ever going to understand where it was he was supposed to fit in with his brothers. He'd thought he had reached that understanding, but out of nowhere Bobby got pissed off at him. His common sense told him the opposite, Bobby's temper was short, and he knew that. He knew not to try to argue with him. But then the other side to it was that he wasn't trying to argue, he'd just thought if Bobby understood, he would let him have just a little time to unwind, and get some things out of his head before he tried to sleep. Common sense was telling him he was making too much of an issue out of it, Bobby was like that, and he knew it. But the little voice contradicted that with the fact that Bobby had been like that with him when he was little, and he had always known then that the man didn't want him around. Craig was afraid of his brothers going back to ignoring him, and not really liking him were resurfacing and he struggled to fight them back.

His brothers did care, or they never would have come after him, right? They'd said they cared when he was younger too. But the little voice seemed to be winning out over the common sense in most of the argument. If they cared, why did they get so pissed off so easy? Why did they ignore him when he tried to tell them something, like Bobby had just done when he tried to ask if he could draw? Asking to draw wasn't asking for too much was it? He didn't understand why it would have been such a big deal for him to draw for a little bit, to get the memories he'd stored throughout that evening down on paper and give his mind a chance to unwind.

Nearly an hour went by before Craig heard footsteps on the stairs. He rolled over, putting his back to the door and closed his eyes, pulling the blankets up over his shoulders. He prayed which ever brother it was didn't step any further than the door. Bobby had said he'd better be asleep when he checked on him, and he didn't want to be caught awake, for fear of getting the whippin' Bobby had threatened. He was surprised that he was actually able to let his breathing relax enough to even out, and was relieved when he heard the creaking at his door but no further. He heard when the man walked away from the door, and let out a shaky breath. He stayed on his side, and kept his eyes closed. He didn't hear the retreating steps go back down the stairs; they went on down the hall to the restroom. He assumed it was Bobby, but it could have been Angel. He knew if one brother had come upstairs the other wasn't far behind, and it was best to just stay where he was, and not move. He kept his eyes closed and soon his suspicions were confirmed when he heard more steps on the stairs. This time he listened to them come to his door, across the floor and felt someone sit on the bed. A hand rested on his forehead, and he almost flinched at the touch, but managed to hold it in. The hand moved to his arm and gave it a gentle pat before the presence next to him stood and walked out of the room. Craig was certain that was Bobby. He remained still as he listened to both of his brother's voices in the restroom. Angel yelled something about privacy, Bobby said something about his turn being next, and Angel had better hurry. Craig couldn't make out all of the words, but part of them.

He felt his mind starting to drift as he listened to the muffled voices and the sound of the shower running through the wall. He felt even more confused by the fact that when Bobby had left, he'd been pissed, but when he came back, he'd seemed calm, and had felt his forehead as if he were concerned about him. He'd even patted his arm before he'd left the room. He wondered if the man knew he was awake and just hadn't pushed it, or if he had actually managed to fool him. Bobby wasn't as easy to fool as Jerry, but it wasn't likely he would have let Craig get away with being awake after being told he'd better get to sleep.

As he drifted to sleep, his mind was still batting around the argument it had been waging about his brothers, and the confusion he felt slipped into his sleep along with him. He could feel himself tossing and turning, and his mind was running pictures of his brothers, making up the worst possible scenarios for his brothers not wanting him. He'd wake for a few moments and then fall back to sleep with the visions in his head progressively getting worse each time. One dream had Bobby throwing him out of the house, and then the next had him driving him to his father and handing him over to him there, saying he didn't want him, that he screwed up too much and he didn't fit in with the rest of his brothers. Another part of his mind would scream at him that Bobby would never do that, he loved him and he would take care of him. It all seemed to build in intensity through the night, until he woke with a jolt in the early morning hours. He woke to find himself sitting in the corner of his room, behind the dresser. The clothes basket that he normally kept in that small space was dumped in the middle of the room. He was shaking, and he felt wet from the waist down. His mind was still spinning in the haze left over from his dreams, and it took several minutes for him to realize he had wet himself. It took several more minutes for him to make his body move. He stood slowly, and started to call out to Bobby, but stopped himself. Bobby would get pissed at him for waking him up, he was sure of that. He wasn't supposed to leave his room either, but he was sure that he could get to the restroom, get cleaned up and get back to bed without Bobby ever knowing. He moved to the dresser and got out clean underwear and sweatpants. He stepped to his bedroom door and listened for any sound from anywhere in the house. It was silent. He stepped quietly to the restroom, turned on the light and closed the door.

He turned on the shower and pulled off his clothes as quickly as his shaking hands would let him. He washed everything from his waist down quickly and then dried off and dressed. It didn't take him more than two minutes he was sure, but in that short time he had managed to concentrate on the task at hand and that seemed to calm him. He carefully picked up his wet sweatpants and underwear and made sure to grab the towel he used to dry his body and pulled to door open to find Bobby standing there looking as pissed as the man could look. He didn't have a chance to say anything before Bobby smacked the wet clothes and towel from his hands and grabbed his arm. He was too stunned to try to say anything as Bobby pulled him back to his room. He was thankful that Bobby didn't have his belt on, by the look on the man's face if he had it would have been much worse. Bobby sat on the bed, pulled the boy down over his knees and pulled his sweatpants down to reveal underwear.

"Bobby, please, I'm sorry, I…" Craig finally found the words, but Bobby ignored them and started the hardest spanking the boy had ever gotten from him. It seemed to last forever, and when Craig thought it couldn't go on much longer Bobby's hand seemed to pick up speed and force. Unlike the last time Bobby wasn't counting out his swats to his ass, and Craig had no idea how many he'd received. He only knew that Bobby hadn't been lying about burning his backside, it felt as if it were on fire by the time the man stopped. He was bawling like a small child, so hard that he found it hard to breathe.

Craig moved to pull his self free of his brother, but Bobby pushed him back across his lap. "I didn't say you could move." Bobby spoke stiffly. "That was the ass beating I told you had hanging over your head. I want to know what the fuck you thought you were doing out of your room before I light your ass up for disobeying me."

Craig felt his muscles growing weak as it registered in his mind that this wasn't over. "I didn't want to wake you up for something stupid." He managed to choke out between his sobs.

"Why were you out of your fucking room after I told you not to leave it?" Bobby's voice rose slightly.

"I peed." Craig muttered.

"You pissed yourself?" Bobby asked.

"Yes." Craig continued crying.

"Why?" Bobby gave him one hard smack on his ass.

Craig tried to swallow at the sobs, to make them stop, but they were too strong.

Bobby didn't ask again, he started the new round just as hard as the first and didn't stop until Craig cried out, "Bobby, please?"

"Tell me why you pissed yourself." Bobby stopped for a moment.

"I was having some dreams." Craig admitted.

"What were the dreams about?" Bobby pushed.

"I don't remember, I swear." Craig spoke quickly.

Bobby started in on his already stinging ass. Craig tried kicking now, not sure how much more he was going to be able to take. "Bobby I don't remember them!" He cried out. "I don't remember!"

Bobby finally stopped, grabbed Craig's arm and jerked up to sit on his knees. "You look at me." He still sounded pissed.

Craig looked up at Bobby as best as he could through the tears, not that he had much of a choice; Bobby still had a hold of his arm and was pulling him to face him.

"Now I want you listen to what I'm saying. I'm not gonna give you no more warnings. Next time you fuck up I'm putting you over my knees and I'm gonna make it hard for you to sit for a very long time. I'm not screwin' around with you, I'm not gonna give you the chance to start your shit on me again. No more lying or sneaking around behind my back. You have a nightmare you yell for me. You are not gonna hide that shit form me anymore and then scare everyone by taking off. You piss yourself, you had better yell for me. I'll take you in and let you get cleaned up, but you do not go on your own. You are on restriction, and you know what the hell that means, I'm pretty sure it was made clear to you the first time. I thought you'd feel better sleeping in your own fucking bed, but I guess I can't even let you out of my sight for that, can I?"

Craig didn't try to answer. He just sat on his knees crying.

Bobby stood, pulling the boy up to his feet as he rose. "Pull up your pants." He told him, his voice a little calmer than before.

Craig reached with his shaking hands and pulled his pants up quickly. He'd barely finished the task when Bobby pulled him out of the room, down the hall, and into their mother's room. Bobby didn't wait for him to crawl into bed on his own; he pushed him onto the bed and slid him across to the wall. "Lay down on your stomach. If you aren't asleep in ten minutes I'm gonna beat your ass again and I want it in easy reach." He warned.

Craig lay on his stomach, keeping his head turned away from Bobby who got into bed next to him. Bobby left the light on and rested a hand on the boy's back.

"Calm down. You're okay." Bobby spoke quietly after a few minutes of the boy's crying continuing.

Craig tried to stop crying, tried to make his mind stop spinning. That little voice in his head was telling him he would never be able to do anything right as far as Bobby was concerned. His brother was never going to like him. Bobby had told him he loved him, but as Craig thought about it, he was starting to realize that Bobby might love him, that didn't mean he liked him.

After a few more minutes Bobby's hand moved across him, grabbed hold of his arm, and pulled him onto his side, sliding him closer to him. "It's okay Craig, calm down." He sounded worried now. "You don't have a damn thing to worry about, so long as you do what I fuckin' tell you to. Okay?"

Craig nodded his head but couldn't get a voice out to speak.

"Good. Now calm down. I ain't gonna spank on you any more tonight as long as you go to sleep." Bobby spoke in that calm voice that had seemed to work on the boy in the past. "You know I don't like doin' that. I don't like whippin' your butt. I let it go before because I don't like doin' it. But if I tell you it's gonna happen if you don't listen, and you still don't listen, then I don't have much of a choice, now do I? I will dish it out to you little boy, but I don't like it. And every time you get one it's gonna be worse than the last one. So do what I tell you and you'll be fine." He hugged the boy a little closer to him.

Craig cried himself to sleep after some time. Bobby kept his arm around him, and when the arm did move Craig felt himself roll over into Bobby and hold onto him, but he couldn't stop himself.

The next morning Craig woke to Bobby shaking him. He opened his eyes and the room still felt dark. It took a moment for him to remember he was in his mother's room, and the windows were covered with boards and plastic. He sat up slowly, looking at the clock. It was eight o'clock. Jerry was supposed to be there at nine thirty. He looked at Bobby, who was fully dressed, and had apparently had his shower already.

"Get up, come on. You need to get your bath and eat before Jerry get's here." Bobby motioned for him to get out of the bed.

Craig moved across the bed, still half asleep. As soon as he moved his ass started hurting. He must have made a face, because Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah, you're gonna remember to listen to me for a few days, aren't you?" He spoke calmly, but sarcasm dripped from his voice.

Bobby took him in for his bath, and applied the cream afterwards. He let Craig take care of the bandage on his foot, but he didn't mention the bright red color of Craig's hurting ass. Bobby gave him a bowl of cereal for breakfast and Craig ate it without any urging from Bobby who was drinking his coffee. Angel was already up and in the living room, watching T.V. Craig kept waiting for Bobby to say something about the night before, but the man never did, but then Bobby wasn't saying too much to him anyway. He spoke just enough to tell him what he wanted him to do, but that was it. Craig was fine with that for the moment. He felt a little odd and didn't want Bobby to catch onto it. He was angry at himself for screwing up and angry at Bobby for spanking him. He was angrier at himself for letting himself feel so comfortable around his brothers, when he knew he needed to keep a little distance. He didn't want them to get tired of taking care of him. He had to make the job easier on them, he knew that.

When he was done eating Bobby told him he could help get the kitchen cleaned up. It didn't take long, and both of them were soon in the living room with Angel. Craig wanted his sketch pad but didn't want to ask if he could go get it. He sat on the chair in front of the fireplace while Bobby and Angel sat on the couch. He watched the T.V. and listened to his brothers discuss what time the truck was supposed to arrive with the supplies they needed. He found out by listening that Angel had called Jack already and told him they wouldn't be there to visit, but they would call throughout the day to check up on him.

The truck arrived ten minutes before Jerry, and Craig found himself sitting on the front steps, watching his brothers help unload the materials onto the front lawn. He had to move a few times so that the windows could be put on the porch. There were bags of concrete mix and sand, lumber, bricks, boxes of nails and screws and cans of paint. There was a table saw as well. It needed to be set up, but it was a good sized saw. Craig watched them unload, and then Jerry signed some papers once he was certain everything was there. Craig walked over to the pallets of bricks and kicked at them. He felt disappointed, they weren't quite the same as what had already been on the porch, but they were close.

Bobby walked up next to him. "You feeling any better yet?" The man asked.

Craig looked up at Bobby, "I guess." He muttered.

"It'll be okay Craig, I promise." Bobby put an arm across the boy's shoulders and pulled him into the house. "Let's get warmed up and then you can help me put this big ass saw together." He smiled.

"Okay." Craig muttered, feeling a little less tense. At least Bobby didn't seem pissed at him at the moment.

Sofi showed up about noon and made spaghetti for lunch. Craig ate, though he could feel a knot forming in his stomach. He was able to ignore the nagging feeling that he was going to do something to screw up having his brothers as long as he stayed busy. Bobby seemed to be in a better mood now, he smiled and laughed and joked, and he included Craig in the conversations, so did Jerry and Angel. When they made their calls to Jack, Craig was given a chance to talk to him. Craig told Jack he couldn't wait for him to come home, and Jack seemed to pick up on something in his voice. He asked Craig if he was okay, and the boy told him yes, he was fine.

That afternoon Bobby had Craig help him carry lumber over next to the saw and stack up certain sized pieces in different areas. Jerry then gave him the task of sorting through bricks and stacking them up on their pallets in the order that Jerry wanted them. Craig's foot was starting to hurt by the time the sun was starting to set, and he was feeling a little cold. Jerry and Angel had managed to get some of the windows and frames out of the front porch by the time they went in, and Bobby had cut some of the lumber up to be ready first thing in the morning.

When they went inside Bobby took Craig up and told him he could have a shower and get ready for bed. Craig thought it seemed kind of early, but he didn't have the nerve to question it.

Bobby seemed to be reading his mind. "You don't have to go to bed yet, you can bring your doodle book down with you and after you eat you can curl up on the couch and draw."

After Craig had his shower and Bobby had applied the cream the man sat on the bath tub and watched while Craig put the bandage on his foot. "Kid, are you okay?" Bobby finally asked.

Craig looked up at Bobby and nodded his head. "I'm sorry about last night." He muttered the words quietly.

Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Me too," He spoke quietly. "Look, Craig, I'm not a parent, and tryin to be one is hard, but I gotta try. You gotta listen to me when I tell you shit. You understand that right?"

Craig went back to the task of bandaging his foot. "I know." He muttered. "I didn't mean to…"

"Stop right there. Don't tell me you didn't mean to. I know better." Bobby still sounded calm. "You want to tell me the truth, then I'm all ears, but I don't want to hear the bullshit from you." Bobby shook his head. "That will just get me pissed again and then we'll both be feeling like shit for the rest of the night."

Craig looked at Bobby and felt the conflict in him trying to surface. He didn't want to say anything; that little voice in his head told him he needed to keep his mouth shut and keep the distance between his feelings and his brothers. But his mouth moved before he could stop it. "I didn't want to wake you up because you were already pissed at me. I didn't want you to get mad again." He muttered.

"You know I want to know if you have dreams Craig. I need to know that. I should've had you come in with me last night shouldn't I?" Bobby asked. "You still can't sleep by yourself. That's okay; I'll just keep you in Ma's room until you can."

"But…" Craig swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Bobby stared at him for a moment before asking, "But what?"

"I didn't dream about what happened." Craig muttered.

Bobby's eyebrows rose slightly. "You told me last night, while you was lyin' over my lap that you didn't remember what you dreamed about."

Craig nodded his head. "I don't remember all the details." He muttered.

"Then what was your dream about?" Bobby asked.

"That you decided you didn't want me." Craig spoke the words quickly and looked back down at his foot, fingering at the bandage he'd just applied to his foot.

Bobby moved over to crouch right in front of the boy, and took a hold of his chin, lifting his face to look at him. "Kid, you can't keep thinking shit like that. You are stuck with me. There is nothing that is going to change that."

"You have to do everything for me. I feel useless. You're gonna get sick of it after a while and…" Craig started, and the tears welled up but didn't fall. "I don't want you to hate me."

"Craig, I was pissed, that don't mean I hate you. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't care if you were sleeping, or eating, or up in the middle of the night with nightmares, now would I?" Bobby spoke quietly. "You gotta stop the bullshitting with me, and we'll be good. That's all."

"But I don't mean to." Craig countered. "I really don't." He was being honest. "I get scared and I think I can make it better if I handle it myself." He muttered.

"I know. I understand that. But you can't make it better by handling it yourself. It only gets worse. Just like when you went for your little walk at Jerry's. You ended up lost and scared and hurt. I'm not gonna take the chance on that happening again. So I'm not playin' with you on this. I told you before, I don't want to be the mean ass big brother and spank you every time I turn around, but that's the only thing that seems to get your attention. I see you're feeding me bullshit about anything and I'll put you right back over my knee, I won't give you no warnings, and I damn sure won't give you no second chances. I know that don't work with you."

Craig nodded his head. "I know."

"You aren't going to feel like this forever Craig. In a few weeks it won't be as bad, and you'll be able to talk about it a little more with us. In a couple of months it will be a little better, and you'll want to talk more, and you won't be so scared of every little thing. We'll just take it one day at a time, and we'll get through this. It's going to be okay." Bobby leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Now come on, let's go get that paper book of yours and get downstairs to eat." Bobby gave him a small smile.

Craig felt a little better but inside he still worried that Bobby would change his mind, that all of his brothers would change their minds. After eating salad and warmed over spaghetti Craig was able to sit on the couch and draw. He let himself get lost in the sketches of his brothers working on the house. His mind thought of one moment when Angel and Sofi had been off to themselves and he put the picture of the two of them, faces close, talking, down on the paper. It was a good picture of them both, he thought. His fears started to stir as it got closer to the time that he was sure Bobby would make him go to bed. He started letting the imagined fears out onto the paper. The visions from his nightmares the night before flowed out onto the paper with no hesitation. He prayed Bobby was right, that the fears that kept creeping into his head would stop. He was tired of feeling so small and helpless. He wasn't a little kid, but he felt like it, and his brothers treated like one because he acted like one.

A little after ten Craig had pretty much drawn everything that he'd felt he needed to and he rested his head back on the couch, ready to fall asleep. Bobby nudged him only after a few minutes and told him it was time to get to bed.

Craig was surprised at how easily the sleep came once he was in bed. He slept well, except for the few times the nightmares would try to start. Bobby would wake him with a shake when he started to toss and turn in the bed. He'd tell Bobby he was sorry, and the man would tell him not to worry about it.

The next morning when Craig woke his toe was throbbing. He sat up in the bed and pulled his legs out from under the blankets. He held onto the throbbing end of his toe, despite the fact that it wasn't there. Bobby stirred a few moments later and looked at him. "Your foot hurt?"

Craig nodded his head. "The end of my toe hurts." He muttered. "I can't rub it because it's not there." He knew it sounded stupid, but it was the truth.

Bobby nodded his head. "The doctor said that could happen." He yawned and got out of bed. "Come on. Let's get you into the tub. Maybe a good soak in some hot water will help."

Craig was surprised that soaking his foot in the bath did help. Bobby told him he needed to take it easy that day and not do as much, to give his foot a break. "You can sit on the steps and get us shit when we need it."

Jerry showed up with his family about nine o'clock, and the men started working as soon as Jerry was there. Jerry was in complete control it seemed; even Bobby did what Jerry told him without any argument. The neighborhood kids started gathering on the street around ten. The morning was unusually warm for mid December, and the street was clear for first time in weeks. It was a perfect day for a game of street hockey. Craig sat on the steps, watching the game, and his brothers, and from nowhere a feeling of peace seemed to fall on him. He would get tools from the toolbox when he was asked to, and he helped Bobby carry a little of the wood. Jerry let him lay a few of the bricks, teaching him how to use the 

level to be sure the bricks were where they needed to be. Craig found himself babysitting Daniela and Amelia for a little while when Camille and Sofi went to the store, just before lunch. He was teaching the girls how to make snowballs, but Jerry put an end to that pretty quick, saying he didn't want snowballs flying in the middle of them trying to get some work done.

They went in for lunch at twelve, and were back outside by twelve thirty. The game in the street had broken up and Craig watched his brothers working more closely than he had before. He wasn't surprised that even building came naturally to them. They worked together as if they knew what each other were thinking. It was no different than anything else they did together. He hoped that some day he could feel enough like them to be able to work with them the same way.

The afternoon seemed to go by quickly. The kids started up another game around four, and were laughing and yelling at each other. Craig watched the game; almost wishing he could join in with them, but he knew there was no way Bobby would let him. He stood from the steps and walked over to Bobby, who was carefully cutting wood. The man looked at him as he finished his cut and turned the saw off, "Ya need somethin'?"

Craig shrugged his shoulders. "I'm bored." He muttered as he looked at the game in the street.

Bobby turned and looked at the children running up and down the street with their sticks, laughing and yelling. He looked at Craig. "Your foot ain't healed enough for street hockey. Besides, you're still on restriction." He spoke with a slight laugh. "You want to help me here? I'll show you how to run the saw." He picked up a pair of goggles and offered them to the fourteen year old.

Craig took the goggles and put them on. Bobby pulled him over to stand in front of him and reached around him with his arms. "You need gloves on your hands." He pointed to a pair of work gloves lying on the table that was holding the saw. "Put those on."

Once Craig had the gloves on Bobby started pointing out the different parts of the saw. He placed Craig's hands where they needed to be and explained about how to change the angle of the saw for certain pieces of wood. He kept his hands held over Craig's as they cut the next piece of wood. Craig liked the feel of he saw under his hands, or maybe he just liked the way it felt with Bobby's hands over his, teaching him something besides hockey. He found himself relaxing and laughing when Bobby cracked a joke. Bobby let him stay there with him for the next hour and a half, and the time went by much too quickly for the boy.

Camille let the girls come outside a little before five and told Jerry to keep an eye on them while she and Sofi got dinner ready. Jerry just smiled at her and said no problem.

It was almost five thirty when Angel actually got the first window in on the front porch, but all of the window frames were in place, so it wouldn't be much to get the rest of the windows in. Camille and Sofi appeared in the door way, and Sofi looked at the men. "Okay, okay, no more work for today." She called out.

"That's right, come in the house, wash your hands." Camille spoke as Angel moved across the porch to stand behind Sofi, putting his arms around her.

Jerry put down the shovel he'd been using to mix up concrete and moved towards the steps. "Dang, a little to eat," He stepped up in front of Camille. "Time to eat, I'm starving." He gave her a kiss as he reached her."What did you cook?" He asked.

Camille smiled at him and looked at her daughters. "You too, come on girls." She called and turned to go into the house.

Jerry waited for his daughters. "Come on babies." He spoke as they started up the stairs.

Craig watched them go into the house, but shifted his attention back to the cut Bobby was guiding him through on the wood. Bobby turned off the saw after the cut and pulled his hands away from Craig's.

The ball from the game rolled over at that moment. Bobby pulled off his goggles and dropped them on the table before bending over to pick up the ball. He turned and walked up to the kids moving towards him. "Here you go." He held the ball out and Darnell's older brother took it.

Craig took off the goggles he'd been wearing, assuming since Bobby had removed his that they were going to be heading in. He put them down next to Bobby's on the table.

"Evelyn isn't coming back, is she?" Darnell spoke the words to Bobby with no warning.

Craig looked over, suddenly feeling a pang for his mother.

"No, she's not coming back." Bobby confirmed for the boy.

"It's because she's dead, huh?" Darnell's brother asked.

"Yeah, it's because she's dead." Bobby's voice was quiet. He drew in a deep breath. "You guys have fun, alright? No rough stuff." He turned to Craig. "Unplug the saw from over there. We'll put it up after we eat." He pointed to where the orange extension cord ran to the outlet on the side of the house and turned to walk towards the steps.

Craig moved to the outlet, and looked up at Bobby, who had stopped on the sidewalk and was looking at the house. The man stood there for a long moment, and then a small smile crossed his lips. "I'm thinking about it, Ma. I'm thinking about it." He spoke the words quietly, but he did speak them, Craig was sure of that. He wondered what his brother was talking about, but he was sure that whatever it was he was saying it to their mother. He was thankful that he wasn't the only one who seemed to talk to her, or hear her voice, it was comforting in fact. He pulled the plug from the outlet and let it rest on a brick to keep it out of the snow before walking back over to Bobby, who turned to take one last look at the game just as the boy reached him. Bobby looked down at him and dropped his arm across his shoulders before walking him up the walk to the steps, and into the house. Craig felt a sense of calm as they walked through the door, despite the fact that the house was crowded with people. That was his family, his brothers, and he never wanted to lose them.


End file.
